


Sex Education

by Succubutts



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Succubutts/pseuds/Succubutts
Summary: In which Cartman is a clueless, bitter virgin who reluctantly finds solace in Kenny's anecdotes.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 53
Kudos: 111





	1. Anger

**Author's Note:**

> (In a universe where all students in South Park Elementary have somehow ended up at the same college bc porn logic.)

“Dude. You should have been there! I’ve got this one chick bouncing on my dick, one riding my face…”

“No _way_ , dude” says Stan, smirking and shaking his head with disbelief “for real??”

“Gross” Eric grunts, not breaking eye contact with his phone.

Kenny swiftly ignores him, opting to instead recline back on Stan’s bed to give a lewd recreation of his most recent fuck. It's Friday evening and the boys are gathered in Stan’s dorm room; Stan and Kyle playing a video game on the floor, Eric sitting slumped on the computer chair, and Kenny sprawled out on the bed - telling a grand story of yet another wild sexual encounter, as is typical. His shirt rides up his stomach as he bucks into the air, one hand gripping a set of invisible hips on top of him, the other holding an ass above his face. “So anyway, I’m fucking this chick and this other girl is damn near suffocating me. But you can bet your ass I’m still giving it all I’ve got” He makes a crude display of wriggling his tongue in the air “when this third chick walks over and asks if she can stick her fingers in my ass-”

“Sick dude!” Kyle chimes in “Did you let her?”

“No fucking _way_ ” Stan grins.

“Guys, guys, you know me. I’m not one to turn down a challenge” He states matter-of-factly, almost offended by his friend’s doubt. He spreads his legs a little wider, lifting one in the air as he does. “Anyway, so here I am, drowning in puss, when this chick slides her finger in fuckin _dry_ -”

“Can we stop with all the faggy shit please” Eric shakes his head. Kenny stops thrusting and drops his hands from the invisible girls.

“What?” 

“Just cool it with the gay crap. Jesus.”

“How the hell is this gay, dude??” Kenny cracks a smile “Just because you’ve never had a girl so much as _breathe_ in your direction."

"You ever even kissed a girl, fatass?” Kyle asks.

“Hey! Of course I’ve kissed a girl. Loads, actually” Eric finally breaks his gaze with his phone to glare at Kyle and Kenny. “And I’m not fuckin fat, I’m just...heavy boned. Assholes...” He trails off.

“Your Mom doesn’t count” Kyle mocks, rolling his eyes “and c'mon, just look at yourself - you’re huge, dude!”

“Shut the fuck up, Kyle!” Eric sneers “This is all just distracting from Kenny getting gay-fingered by a girl!”

“Dude, I don’t think its gay if its with a girl” Says Stan

“It is too! Anyone who likes getting their ass played with is a fag. Doesn’t matter who’s doing the fingering. Playing with someones literal _asshole_ is gay as fuck and you’re all just sour because I tell the truth”

“Pfft, and you’d know wouldn’t you, fatass” Kyle snickers.

“Hey!! What did you say, you useless Jew?!” Eric starts to rise from his chair “I’ll fight you, Kyle, don’t make me do it!”

“Haha, like you’d stand a chance, asshole” Kyle drawls.

“Woah, guys, chill out” Kenny sits up “Kyle, don’t encourage him, dude. And Cartman - stop being such an asshole. I bet you’d cream your fuckin’ panties for a chance to have a girl put even her little pinky up your lard-ass so shut the fuck up” 

“Ugh, gross. Whatever.” Eric slinks back down into his chair, the tips of his ears burning.

It’s true, Eric has never kissed a girl. In fact, Kenny was pretty spot on in that no one has ever looked his way with even a crumb of interest. 

Over the years, Eric convinced himself that this isn’t a problem, however- nor is it his fault. He’s come to hold a firm belief that he’s way better and more awesome than everyone else, whether he’s stuck his dick in someone or not. He’s convinced himself that it’s all bullshit, that girls are super lame anyway.

He'd held onto these beliefs when Kenny had rushed to the bus stop all those years ago, out of breath and grinning wildly, to announce that he’d lost his virginity to the 46 year old milf down the road. He held onto them when Stan told everyone over the lunch table he'd lost his when he fucked Wendy doggy-style behind the bleachers after a football game. He damn near repeated them like a mantra to himself when Kyle admitted at a sleepover not too long ago, with beetroot cheeks, that he’d had his first time with a girl at a party the weekend prior (as if a ginger _,_ as if _Kyle_ of all people, got to have sex before he did). 

Unfortunately for Eric, stories like these are far from uncommon within his group, especially since discovering all the opportunities and freedom that came with moving away for college. It only takes until Monday for Kenny to have another anecdote under his belt.

“And _that_ is why gingers are a biological hazard to the rest of society”

“Oh shut the hell up, Cartman” Kyle says, taking a bite of his sandwich, and rolling his eyes.

“It's just cold hard facts, Kyle. Don’t be a little bitch just because I’ve done my research”

“Ugh, I can't be bothered with this. Stan, tell Cartman to stop being such a dick.”

“Stop being such a dick, Cartman.” Stan drones without looking up from his phone.

“Hey, that reminds me.” Kenny says offhandedly “Guess who’s dick I sucked Saturday night” 

“Jesus, dude” Kyle laughs.

“Hey! We were having a very important conversation here, _Kenny_ ”

“Go on, who?” Stan asks, ignoring Cartman completely.

“A certain little blonde number”

“Butters?” Stan guesses

“Damn, I wish. Guess again.”

“Uhh, Bebe?”

“I said I sucked a dick, you moron.”

“Hey, girls can have dicks” Kyle says with a smirk.

“Dude, I _know_ girls can have dicks. I’m not an idiot. But I know for a hot fact that Bebe doesn't have one, at least, not a _real_ one. So one more guess.”

Kyle and Stan scan the lunch hall eagerly, while Cartman keeps his eyes fixated on his chip packet, slowly shaking his head with something akin to disappointment. 

“Oh my god” Kyle suddenly whisper- hisses “Jesus fucking Christ Kenny, you didn’t!”

Kenny smirks and he nods, proud of himself.

“Tweek?!” Kyle confirms with a look like he’s half horrified and half wildly impressed.

“Ugh, gross” Eric groans through a mouthful of chips.

“Dude, that’s too much '' Kyle puts his face into his hands with feigned exasperation “Poor Craig, man. Why’ve you got to be such a homewrecker Kenny?”

“Hey, who said I was a homewrecker??” Kenny asks, smirk morphing into a shit-eating grin “Turns out Craig is quite the cuck in the bedroom - who’d have thought”

“Ugh, dude!” Stan laughs and scrunches up his nose “Too much information!”

“Just don’t want any of you to get any wrong ideas about me. I’m a good man” Kenny says “a good man who sucks a lot of good dick”

“Jesus Christ” Cartman huffs as he rises from the table, “I’m going to go throw up. You guys have fun being fags” He grabs his bag and stalks out of the cafeteria, hands in his pockets.

“What’s his problem?” Stan wonders aloud.

“Dude’s not getting any, that’s what’s up” Kenny shrugs.

Eric sits on a closed toilet seat, chin cupped by his hands, as he bores holes into the door with his glare. It seems that after all these years of repeating the same mantra to himself (girls suck, you're still way more awesome than everyone else), that his resolve is starting to wear thin. With each of Kenny’s increasingly frequent anecdotes he feels more and more bitter. The ugly twist of jealousy that he feels in his gut whenever he listens to him talk is becoming harder and harder to ignore, repress. It just isn’t _fair._

He especially hates hearing about all this gay shit. It makes him deeply uncomfortable and so, _incredibly_ pissed. He doesn’t quite understand why - it's probably because it's just plain gross - but he simply can’t stand to be around when Kenny boasts about taking it up the ass or licking balls or whatever. 

At least when Kenny is talking about being with a girl, Eric can learn a thing or two. He has to admit to himself that although Kenny’s stories make him feel self-conscious and jealous, and though he may not always understand how certain things within them work, sometimes - _somehow_ \- he feels as though he needs them in a fucked up, backwards, kind of way.

The thing is, that besides fisting his dick into a crumpled tissue most nights, Eric has absolutely no sexual experience - and yet he can experience the most wild and crazy sex through Kenny’s stories. He hates to admit it but, in many ways, Eric relies on them to educate him. It’s not like Eric will ever get to do the insane things Kenny does, and so, no matter the ugly feeling in his stomach, he finds himself trying to live vicariously through Kenny, almost anticipating the next story despite the haze of bitter jealousy.

Eric sighs. He hates feeling like this - wound so tight with rage and confusion but having to hide his feelings in fear of people thinking he’s lame. It just isn’t _fair_. How does such poor, white trash get laid so much more than him?

“How does poor, white trash like you get laid so much, Kenny?”

It's a few days later when Eric poses the question from the passenger seat of Kenny’s old pickup truck, before Kyle and Stan arrive for their morning carpool.

“Haha, oh sweet! What, are you asking for some tips and tricks? Well, I mean...no offence, dude, but you’re kind of a total asshole. Girls don't really dig the whole ‘being shitty to literally everyone’ vibe."

“Hey!”

“And I mean - I guess I’ve got some experience, y’know - I’m not dumb, I _know_ I’m an easy lay, but I also know how to use my dick, and word spreads fast so...” 

“So girls love man-sluts?” Eric rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

“You bet. I’ve worked hard on this reputation, dude, and it's earned me my weight in tits over the years.”

“That’s such bullshit” Eric scoffs “and gross.”

“It’s not bullshit, Cartman. You should know me well enough to trust me on shit like this” Eric _hates_ that he knows that Kenny is right. God, he hates it. It’s just all too much - 

“Look, _Kenny_ \- fucking a couple of cheap bitches doesn’t make you any better than me. I’ve kissed and had...had sex with so many girls - like - _so_ many you wouldn’t fuckin’ _believe_ , so stop acting like you’re not poor, white trash, just because you’ve been inside a few saggy vaginas. It doesn't make you special and it doesn’t mean you’ll _ever_ be as awesome, or as cool as me.” He can feel his cheeks burning with the sudden anger. 

Kenny sighs and looks down at the dirty floor between his feet “...Whatever, dude.”

They sit in silence for a couple of seconds as Kenny toes at a clump of mud that’s found its way into the truck. After a while, he sighs again and asks “Cartman, have you ever actually tried not being an asshole? I know you're frustrated, dude, and I get that, but have you tried opening up instead of being so angry and _mean_ all the damn time?” 

He spots Kyle and Stan approaching and waves before putting his arm down and turning to Eric “Hey” Eric looks up, scowling “You’re standing in your own way, dude. Try being a little more honest in future. It’ll get you much further than whatever this shit you’re doing is. Besides, girls dig honesty. Trust me.”

Eric glares at his shoes as Stan and Kyle reach the truck. He ignores their greetings as they hop in the seats behind him and the way Kenny talks to them with a smile in his voice as though he hasn’t just pissed him off like this.

He hates that Kenny can see through him so easily. He hates how he just spoke to him so sincerely. He especially hates how Kenny tends to be right about most things, which probably makes him right about Eric standing in his own way.

As the hum of the engine fills his ears, Eric sulks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that he’s too mad to understand. Maybe he _should_ try being more honest, he thinks to himself, and in the same beat, 'nah, that would be fucking weak as fuck'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor emotionally stunted baby :(  
> (Eric and Kenny live further away from Stan and Kyle as they can't afford that fancy close-to-college accommodation and so live in cheaper dorms further out... is what I'm telling myself for this to work lol)


	2. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sin begins...

The rest of the day passes pretty uneventfully. The boys meet up for lunch and talk about how bullshit their classes are; Kyle complains that his professor speaks way too quickly for him to take notes, and Stan is pissed about the amount of coursework he’s been given this term. Eric still feels pretty bitter from this morning’s outburst and he's almost relieved when their lunch hour passes without another of Kenny’s anecdotes. He doesn’t think he could deal with that right now. 

The boys all finish their lectures around the same time, and so decide to carpool once again to get back to their separate dorms. Kyle and Stan get out at their usual spot, leaving Eric and Kenny alone in the truck for the rest of the drive. They drive in silence besides the hum of some lame radio station for a couple of minutes before Kenny finally clears his throat and says “Hey, Cartman?” Eric is slumped in his seat, arms folded.

“Mm?” he grunts, still staring out the window.

“Wanna hear about the time Wendy Testaburger sucked my dick in an empty lecture hall?” he asks casually, like he’s trying to bait Eric into a conversation.

“Fuck off, Kenny” Eric rolls his eyes - he isn’t in the mood.

“She was so bad, dude,” Kenny carries on regardless, a hint of a smile playing on his lips “She acted like the whole thing grossed her out, like she was above screwing around with me. She’s got cute little tits but damn, she’s also got this stuck-up-bitch thing going on that just ruined the whole experience” he hesitates a glance at Eric, a glint in his eye “Oh and _fuck_ , dude, she was aaaall teeth. I was worried to say anything in case she bit my dick off, or worse, gave me some sort of feminist lecture on why it’s sexist to criticize someone’s skills when your dick’s in their mouth” Eric can’t help but give a snort, and just like that the tension between them melts. 

“She’s such a _bitch._ ” He agrees, a half-smile of his own creeping onto his mouth.

“Such a bitch. I’m not gonna lie, though, it got pretty good when she let me fuck her throat,” Kenny rolls the car to a stop at Eric’s usual spot, “She wasn’t any good at it, but that just made it more satisfying, dude. Having her gag like she did - it _really_ shut her up.” He pauses, hands still on the steering wheel, looking into the distance like he’s deep in thought, “Yeah...I’d definitely get a feminist lecture for that”

Eric gazes out the window again, watching a group of older girls stroll by. “Does it really feel that good?” He doesn’t realise he’s spoken until the words have left his mouth “I mean, say, if I’d never been...deep-throated” He splutters, cheeks instantly burning. He forces his head round to look at Kenny, ready to be mocked for accidentally admitting to never having his dick sucked.

Kenny only falters slightly, head turning to look at Eric for just a split moment, before he turns back to look out of the windscreen again, letting his arms fall away from the steering wheel and relaxing back in his seat. “It’s _so_ good, dude” He begins, almost dreamily, “It’s so tight and hot, like, dude, you’re literally _fucking_ their face - it’s _heaven_.” He turns to give Eric a nasty grin.

Eric lets go of a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, “So…it actually feels good when a girl...gags like that?” _Goddammit,_ this is humiliating.

“Oh, fuck, dude, its the _best_ .” He takes Eric’s question in his stride, not a hint of judgement in his voice, “And it’s not always about being in control. Sometimes it’s, like, I don’t know, just knowing that they’re choosing to get you off instead of letting themselves _breathe;_ that they want to keep going to the point of _gagging,_ all because they’re so desperate to make you feel good...I don’t know about you, dude, but I find that shit pretty hot.”

“So...it’s more, like, psychological than...physical?” _ugh, weak._

“I guess, I mean - of course it feels fuckin’ ace as well - it makes them dribble a load, which makes it all slick and shit. Plus, I fuckin’ love it when someone’s got a load of drool running all down their chin. That shit is _hot_ ”

“Gross, dude” But Eric is smiling to himself. The air hushes for a moment, “I’d uh...I’d better get home. Uhh...” He feels like he should say something more, like maybe he should thank Kenny for not being an asshole to him - he knows he would have deserved it - but that somehow feels like he’d be admitting everything all over again, like a whole new level of vulnerability. He instead gives up on trying to say anything at all and opens the truck door. 

“See you tomorrow, asshole” He settles on as an appropriate goodbye as he steps outside. 

Before he manages to shut the door, however, Kenny quickly leans over the passenger seat and holds it open with the tips of his fingers “Hey, uh,” he begins “I know this may be a bit faggy of me but... you know I’m here for you, right, dude? You can always talk to me...as long as you keep being honest, okay? I respect that.”

Eric shoves his hands in his pockets and snorts, smiling “Yeah, yeah.” He pauses, kicking at some loose gravel “You were right, though. That was so fuckin’ gay dude” Both boys laugh, some sort of silent truce forming between them.

“Alright, I’m done. You can fuck off now, fatass” Kenny grins, waving Eric away before shutting his door and driving off.

When he gets back to his dorm room, Eric throws himself onto his bed, hands interlaced over his round stomach. This morning he felt so angry, so pissed off, but now he feels like a sort of weight has lifted. He chooses not to mull this over, though - he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, that perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here. Instead, he settles into his usual post-college routine and undoes his fly - he also carefully decides not to notice how his dick is already half-hard from his conversation with Kenny a few moments prior.

Dick in one hand, phone in the other, he scrolls through his go-to porn site until he finds something that will probably do the job. Some bitch on her knees, about to suck off a totally forgettable dude. He’s aware of how his choice mirrors the topic of his and Kenny’s conversation, but again refuses to draw any deeper meanings.

Once he presses play, he absent-mindedly strokes his dick until he’s hard and watches as she licks, open-mouthed, up the length of the guy’s ridiculously huge wiener, obviously putting on a show for the camera. She swirls her tongue around his cock head, obnoxiously moaning as she does so, and then places her lips over it, beginning to suck in earnest. 

Eric huffs, hand gripping a little tighter around himself - it’s a cheesy porno, but even the really bad ones are kinda hot. It’s not long before Mr Nobody backs the girl against a wall and starts to really thrust into her mouth. She makes all sorts of vulgar slurping and gagging sounds and when she pulls away to breathe a couple of heavy breaths, a thick strand of saliva connects her lips to the guy’s dick. 

Eric has watched plenty of porn - jacking off is ingrained into his daily routine at this point; it’s not like this shit is new territory for him. He’ll also admit that he’s drawn inspiration from a couple of Kenny’s stories before. But this feels different. It's like before now he’s just been hazarding guesses about how things feel - but now he’s got some real, honest information. He feels like he’s watching this shitty porno through new eyes - like he _really_ understands the appeal of it now. The woman on the screen licks her lips coyly, slowly, and blinks wide-eyed up at the man, before swallowing his full length back down again.

Cartman had always felt pretty indifferent about saliva in his porn. It was kind of gross, if anything. But now, with his newfound knowledge of what the guy in his porno must be experiencing, he finds himself with a new appreciation for it. 

When the woman gags - something he’s never had a particularly strong reaction to - he feels a wave of arousal course through his body. He thinks about what Kenny said, how it feels “like _heaven_ ”, and he swipes his thumb through the pre-cum beading at the tip of his dick, slicking himself with it. 

At some point the couple on his screen start actually fucking and it’s then that Eric locks his phone and throws it somewhere on his bed. He instead imagines Wendy, that _bitch,_ kneeling between his thighs. He thinks about what it would be like to fist his hand in the hair at the back of her head and thrust up into her mouth, her _throat_.

His hand works faster around his cock and he scrunches his eyes tightly shut. _Fuck._ He imagines her with drool covering her lips and her eyes watering with the effort of it all. His breaths are laboured now, coming out in short, shallow huffs. “Haah, ah - _shit”_ he gasps to himself. He’s close already.

“...just to know that they’re choosing to get you off instead of letting themselves _breathe”_ Christ, he’d never even thought of it that way. He imagines Wendy gagging on his dick, trying desperately to force herself back onto it despite her body’s best efforts to push it out. He imagines her moaning around his dick, imagines a string of saliva pooling on the bed from her chin, he imagines her tongue, her lips, her throat, “It’s so tight and hot”, and then he’s coming, _fuck_ he’s coming, hes coming, “Oh - _fuck_ ” he gurgles out, his hand stuttering around his cock and his back arching “ _Fuck_ . _Fuck_ . _Fuuuck_ ” 

He lays there, mind white with pleasure, taking great, heaving breaths until he finally starts to come down from the high, heart still pounding heavily in his chest. He stares up at the ceiling, dumbfounded, hand still wrapped loosely around his dick, knuckles painted with cum. He’s distantly aware that he’s also got cum all over his shirt - he must have been too wrapped up in his fantasy to remember a tissue. He wipes his hand off on his shirt - fuck it - before sitting up, with great effort, and carefully peeling it over his head

Eric swings his legs over the side of his bed and sits there for a second, cum-covered shirt crumpled at his side. That was...fuckin’ weird...but also pretty fuckin’ awesome. He makes a mental note to overthink this some other time - right now he feels great, and is happy to accept that at its surface level. He once again feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

If this is what being honest feels like, then he wants more.


	3. Humiliation

The next day, Cartman waits in his usual spot for Kenny to swing by in his crusty pick up truck. When he does finally pull in, a crooked smile spreads across his lips “You’re early” he grins as Eric climbs into the passenger seat. “Yeah, whatever” Eric shrugs. His chest is humming a little with nerves - a sensation he’s almost entirely alien to, and not one he wants to make a habit of feeling. 

Kenny leans over him to snatch a packet of cigarettes out of the glove compartment. Eric watches as he takes one from the pack and places it between his lips before tossing the rest in the cupholder beside them. He lifts his hips to fetch a lighter from his jean pocket and, using his other hand to shield the flame, flicks the lighter to life. As the flame touches the cigarette, his eyes snap to Eric, and only then does Eric realise he’s staring.

He looks at his shoes, but can feel Kenny still looking at him as he draws the first long drag. He tosses the lighter into the cupholder as well - the movement catching Eric’s attention, compelling him to hazard another peek in Kenny’s direction. He finds Kenny staring straight back at him, a frown between his eyebrows. He feels like he’s being studied, examined, as Kenny takes another drag, as the smoke floats from his lips. After a few excruciating moments Kenny says “Alright, tell me what’s going on”. God, he hates how Kenny can see through him, through anybody.

“Goddammit, Christ, hang on” Eric buries his hands in his pockets and looks out the windshield, scowling at nothing in particular “You know I’m no good at this shit” Kenny looks intently at him, but stays quiet - taking another pull of his cigarette every now and then. “Ugh, fuck, can you open the window at least” Kenny wordlessly reaches behind him and winds the window down without breaking his gaze. Eric shifts in his seat. “Right. So. I’m trying to do what you said.” He looks at Kenny, “I’m trying to be...honest” Kenny quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing.

“I….ah, fuck...I wanted to tell you that...fucking _Christ_ …that I’ve never had sex, okay?? I’ve never fucked anyone, I’ve never even kissed anyone. Its weak as fuck, dude, and I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what half the things you talk about even fuckin’ _mean_ . It’s been making me so fuckin’ _pissed_ and-”

“Hey, woah there big guy,” Kenny _finally_ interjects, before Eric can make an ass of himself any longer “I meant what I said yesterday. I’m here for you, okay?” He takes one last breath of smoke before stubbing his cigarette out on the dashboard and dropping the butt in the cupholder, alongside all his other shit. “What is it you actually want from me, dude? Advice? A hug? I'm all ears.”

Eric takes a deep breath. Jesus, he only meant to ask for a couple of sex tips but here he is spilling his goddamn guts out at 8:30 in the morning. “I...ugh, I want you to teach me shit. Like, how to do stuff, how it all works.”

“Cartman, dude, if you’ve got questions, I can answer them. I’m your man for that shit, okay?”

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll fuckin’ kill you, I swear to God, Kenny” He can’t risk any of this getting out.

“I know you will, dude, I know. Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me. And Cartman?” Cartman looks at him “I’m proud of you. This is big stuff.” For a white trash slut, Kenny had the tendency to be awfully kind.

“Shut the fuck up, Kenny” Cartman says, but he’s not angry.

“So...did you wanna talk about anything right now?” Kenny asks.

“Nah, we need to pick up the other fags and get to college.”

“Do you wanna talk after college?”

“...maybe”

Kenny nods his head, and swiftly changes the subject to this awesome new Subway combo he’d tried just last week. Eric is grateful that Kenny is so chill like this. He’s still not ready to thank him, but maybe he’ll get there at some point. Right now he’s more than happy to hear all about Kenny’s favourite stoner sandwich.

Once again, Eric’s day passes pretty much the same. At lunch, Kenny sprints up to the picnic bench the boys have bagged, with a cylindrical package in hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement when he slams it onto the bench “Behold! The meatball, marinara sauce, mayo, cheese, jalapeno, and olive sub. I call this one: six inches of beefy heaven”

“Awh, nah, dude, that’s so nasty!” Stan grimaces. 

“Hey! Give me a bit, lemme try it” Cartman asks.

“Hell no dude! This is my shit! Get your own beefy heaven” 

“No fair Kenny, you’ve been hyping that up all morning.”

“Damn straight I have - I gave myself a real craving for one. Now, avert your eyes. This is about to get _saucy_ ”

Stan’s lectures finish way sooner than everyone else's, so he catches a bus instead of carpooling in the afternoon. Kyle and Cartman bicker about nothing in particular for the whole two minutes they’re in the truck together. Once they’ve dropped Kyle off, Kenny turns to Eric and grins “...so?”

“So, what?” He asks, watching the trees fly past his window.

“So ask me! What nasties have been on your mind, Cartman?? What depraved, gross, shit do you want to learn about? I’m all ears, ask away.”

Cartman stays quiet for a moment. He almost wishes he hadn’t set this up. “I...uh…” Kenny waggles his eyebrows “I don’t know, dude.”

“Oh come oooon, dude, you must have _so_ many burning questions up in that tiny brain of yours”

“Hey! Watch it, dumbass.” He pauses, knowing he only has limited time to talk to Kenny, and that he probably shouldn't waste it by insulting the one guy offering to give him advice “I...to be honest I don’t even know where to start” He confesses, defeated.

“Hmm, that is tricky...want me to tell you a story? You can stop me when I say something you don't get, sound good?”

“Ugh, sure…” His cheeks are burning.

“Alright....hmm, let me think….” Kenny drums his fingers on the steering wheel, “Oh shit, alright, this one’s fucked up! You’ve gotta have some questions about this.”

Eric braces himself, not entirely sure whether he wants to hear it “Okay, so a couple of weeks ago I pick up this chick from a bar”

“Uh huh,”

“I picked her because literally everything about her screamed ‘I’m going to step on you’ and, dude, I’m _so_ into that. Anyway, she’s already bossing me around on the way home - by the time we get back to mine, I stick a hand down her pants and she’s already soaked, dude - I realise I’ve bagged myself a real freak for the night. So she-”

“I uh, shit, wait - wait.”

Kenny looks stunned, completely caught off guard “We haven’t even gotten to any good bits yet, dude, what?”

Cartman feels his whole face prickle from blushing so hard. His reflex is to get angry, to feel like Kenny is mocking him, like he should be pissed and tell him to go fuck himself. He instead takes a deep breath - goddamn, this being honest shit is going to take some getting used to - and lets it go, still painfully aware that his time is limited. “I...ugh, _Jesus-_ ” he buries his face in his hands “I don’t know if I completely get the whole... _getting wet_ thing” He rubs at his face, wishing he could just push this damn heat out of his cheeks.

“Ohhhh...okay, well that’s fine dude” Fuck, why did Kenny have to be so _understanding?_ “What don’t you get?”

“I just...how does it happen? And like - how much comes out?” Eric cringes at every single word that comes out of his mouth, “Does it happen like a boner - like, can it happen in the middle of a lecture or like morning wood, like, without them wanting to?”

“Phew! That's a lot to unpack big man,” Kenny smiles kindly at Eric “But I’ve got you. Alright so, what was your first question? How does it happen? Alright, so it happens when a chick is super turned on.”

“Yeah I know that…” Eric grumbles, not wanting to be shamed for any more than is absolutely necessary. Kenny rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“But it's not like popping a boner, dude - you don’t snap your fingers and she’s wet. You gotta get a girl warmed up a little, get those juices flowing. Literally. It all depends on the chick, how they’re feeling. Sometimes you’ve just gotta use some lube” He shrugs, “I think the same goes for how much, it just depends, dude. I guess the normal amount is- ah, I dunno,” Despite Kenny’s typically casual tone, Eric swears he can see a slight blush start to rise on Kenny’s cheeks “Its enough to get 'em, just, y’know. Slicked up.”

They pull up to Eric’s spot. Kenny turns to Eric and smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck “Sorry dude, I need to brush up on my teaching skills. Does that about answer your questions though?”

“Yeah...uh, just to clarify - you’ve gotta kinda...work for it right? To get a girl...wet?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it, dude! I mean, it’s not _hard_ work or anything. You’ve just gotta do some foreplay, which in my opinion is half the fun” His smirk is back, thank God. Seeing Kenny anything less than over-spilling with confidence left Eric feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Okay. Alright, I think I get it.”

“Sweet, glad to be of service. Next time I’ll be more prepared than this, I swear.” He drums on the wheel - Eric notes it as a habit of Kenny’s. “To be honest with you, speaking about the basics is a little harder than I expected. I guess talking about getting stepped on and fucked in the ass is easier for some reason. Who’da thought?” Ahh, shit, there he goes again with the honesty. He doesn't like seeing Kenny like this - it makes Eric himself feel exposed for some reason. 

"You can tell me about all that shit another time. I should get going now, I’m fuckin’ starving.” 

“Alright, Cartman. See you tomorrow.”

Eric gets out the truck and says goodbye with a wave of his hand. It feels good to be in the fresh air again, he was feeling a little claustrophobic cooped up with an honest Kenny. That would take some getting used to.

He gets back and settles into his routine once again. This time he watches an amateur video of a chick masturbating. He again finds himself paying attention to details he wouldn’t have noticed just a couple of days ago. He focuses solely on the way her pussy glints in the low light of the room and the obscene wet sounds it makes when she plunges her fingers inside herself. When she pulls them back out again, her fingers are covered in her juices. She shows them off to the camera, pinching them together and pulling them apart to show the slickness stretching between her thumb and middle finger.

Eric comes unexpectedly again - all over his hand and shirt - when she does this. Maybe it was the newfound appreciation of knowing just how turned on she must have been to be that wet - whatever it was, his first words to himself as he stops hyperventilating are “oh, fucking - goddammit” as he notices his second cum-streaked shirt.


	4. Routine

Over the next week, Kenny and Cartman make a habit of their truck talks. Kenny tells Cartman stories, Cartman asks him questions, and Kenny willingly talks him through all the things he doesn’t quite understand.

Of course, it all takes some getting used to - oftentimes Eric can't quite decide whether he appreciates or hates the way Kenny takes all of his dumb questions in his stride. There’s no teasing, no judgement, and the way he tries his best to make Eric comfortable when he falls into “teaching mode” is completely alien to Eric - in fact, he seems almost excited to help him. Cartman’s not entirely sure how to process this kindness.

Honestly, it sometimes makes him feel young, stupid, like he’s being talked down to - but maybe that's just because he’s not used to being treated this way. Maybe he’s confusing being spoken to respectfully with being mocked. Maybe he’s just so used to dishing out insults that he constantly expects them back. Maybe there’s something to be said about being on the defensive and in denial for his whole life up until this point. Maybe.

Despite this, it’s almost alarming how easily they both settle into a routine. For whatever reason - perhaps it's the newfound and very addictive feeling of relief that comes with being honest for the first time in Cartman’s life, or Kenny’s absolute delight in talking about sex - their arrangement just _works_. 

Neither of the boys think twice about making their time in the pickup truck a private opportunity to talk about all things tits and ass. 

Cartman is well aware that he’s settled into his own routine of using their conversations as jacking-off material as soon as he gets back to his room - ducking out of the truck a little hastily once or twice when Kenny’s lessons had gotten a little too descriptive. 

As usual, he refuses to see any reason to find fault in this. So what? He’s getting sweet fapping material as well as learning about sex - it’s a win-win situation for him, and he’s never been one to turn down anything that benefits him in any way.

He doesn’t see any downsides to their arrangement. That is until the following Monday when Kenny approaches the group with another nasty grin plastered on his face.

“Heidi? For real?” Stan scrunches up his nose “Wouldn’t have pinned her as your kinda girl.” Eric looks up from his lunch at Heidi’s name, suddenly finding himself particularly interested in what Kenny has to say. 

“Hell yeah, dude! I didn’t think so either, but she came up to me at the party on Saturday and asked if she could borrow a smoke-”

“She smokes?” Eric asks, as nonchalant as he can muster. He doesn’t want Kyle or Stan picking up on any signs that he might actually be invested in Kenny’s stories. He especially doesn’t want them knowing that he might be interested in _Heidi_...

“Nah, I could tell she was just using it as an excuse to talk to me and get in my pants...which, spoiler, worked by the way.” 

Eric has always held a fondness for Heidi - even considering her to be his choice girlfriend, if he somehow got the miracle opportunity. She seems gentle - _nice_ \- which isn’t something Eric usually respects, but it makes her seem way more approachable than all the other bitchy girls in his year.

Eric would be lying to himself if he said that he's ever actually planning on asking her out. He’s too deeply wrapped up in his self-pity and self-righteousness to ever make the first move on a girl. 

He’d also be lying to himself if he said that Kenny’s story doesn’t somehow disappoint him in a way, like he’s taken away the one option he never had. He'll admit it - he’s jealous.

And yet, despite the way these feelings settle deep in his gut, he still feels curious - of course he does. Heidi has been the source of many fantasies, and this will be the closest he’ll ever get to actually fucking her.

“So, what happened then?” Eric drawls with a casually raised eyebrow. 

“Well, when I told her to drop the act and asked her what she actually wanted, she pretty much just asked me straight-up to take her virginity.” 

Eric grits his teeth against the wave of emotions he feels. He can’t decide whether he’s upset, angry, or aroused at this information and he’s glad to not have to be the one to ask another question when Kyle chimes in, “So go on dude, what did you do?”

“Well, of course I agreed. I’ve taken a few chick’s v-cards so I know how to treat ‘em right. She told me that’s why she came to me - because I’d know exactly what to do...” he gives a pointed look at Eric, who shamefully recalls their conversation about man-sluts and in turn looks down to study his lunch.

“Jesus, dude, way to drag out a story. Get to the point already!” Stan says with a mouthful of pizza.

“Alright, jeez. So I drive her back to mine and hoooly shit dude, you wouldn’t believe what she’s got going on under that ugly sweater” he leans in like he’s telling a very important secret, “she’s got some of the most beautiful, perky titties I’ve ever seen, dude, like seriously” he cups his hands in mid-air, “they were the perfect handful, I’m not kidding, and her nips were like these tiny, pink gumdrops or some shit. They were crazy, man, I’ve never seen such perfect tits, and trust me, I've seen my fair share.” 

_Fuck_ , okay, maybe it's arousal. Kenny always has a way with words and Eric feels drawn into the story against his own will.

“So, anyway, she presented me with the most perfect pair of melons I’ve ever seen in my whole fuckin’ life. So, naturally, I decide she deserves a good time. I get down on my knees, thank God for this precious, _precious_ gift that has been bestowed upon me, and go to town on her.”

“What does that even _mean_?” Eric asks with a sneer - both trying to keep up the facade that he doesn't actually care about the answer, that he’s not hanging off every damn word Kenny says, and trying to give him a hint that he might need a bit of a truck-talk explanation.

“Well, y’know, dude. I went down on her. I ate her out. I made sure I made her come at least twice before taking her to pound town. With titties like those, she deserved it. And guys,” he leans in again, “I’m not fuckin around when I say I’ve never heard a chick make such hot, little noises. She was like a damn kitten when she came, squeaking and squealing somethin’ adorable….man” he reclines back in his chair and huffs out a grin, shaking his head fondly “I fuckin _love_ virgins.” 

Kenny continues talking about the rest of the night, about how Heidi’s draw dropped when Kenny first took his pants off; about how cute, pink, and tight her pussy was; how her tits bounced when he fucked her over his desk. 

_Fuck._

He gets way too animated, as usual, and stands against the lunch table to demonstrate just how he railed her, even putting on a mock-girl voice at one point “ _Oh, fuck Kenny! You’re so big! I didn’t know it would feel so good_!” he sing-songs with a shit-eating grin.

Eric's head is spinning as he hears the other boys crack up.

“Dude, no way!”

“I swear you live in a porno, Kenny”. 

He stares down his lunch, suddenly fascinated with all the layers in his burrito. He hates how Stan and Kyle egg Kenny on, and he hates how Kenny reacts to it - giving more and more nasty details. Most of all, however, he hates that he can feel his dick, hard and heavy down his pant leg, and how it twitches against the material of his khakis whenever Kenny describes Heidi’s come-face or tells the group about how she squeals when she gets spanked.

“Stop - stop being such a fag, Kenny” Eric blurts out. He can’t take this any longer, “No one wants to hear about that nasty shit.”

Kenny’s smile drops and he slowly lowers himself back down to his seat “Hey, what’s the deal, Cartman?” Eric squirms in his seat - shit, can everyone actually see him sweating? He’s about to make up some bullshit excuse to get himself away from the table when-

“Cartman, calm your man-tits. Just because you’re not getting laid, doesn’t mean you have to be such an asshole” Stan interjects.

“Aight’, that does it.” Cartman pushes himself up from his seat. Thank _fuck_.

“Oh come on, dude, don’t get mad” Kenny tries, but Cartman is already speeding towards the toilets, hands deep in his pockets. He hears Kyle make a comment about being jealous just before he’s out of earshot.

When he gets to his - thankfully empty - stall, he slams the door shut and stands against the cold, crusty tiles of the wall, breathing hard. Kyle’s words ring in his ears, and while it's true that he can still feel the ghost of jealousy loitering beneath his chest, he knows it's certainly not the reason for his dramatic exit. Not this time, anyway. 

He looks down, thankful that his sweatshirt covers his thighs. His pants outline an embarrassingly strained boner, a dark spot beginning to form through the light brown. “Goddamn it.” He huffs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and scrunching up his face “God fucking _damn it”._

Though he knows he’s alone, he stills for a second, double checking that there’s no one else in the bathroom with him. An entirely uninvited image of a naked and eager Heidi flashes across Cartman’s mind and he hisses, knowing he has no option but to take matters into his own hands - inside a fucking public toilet, no less. He curses Kenny for being so vivid with details as he unzips and pulls his flushed dick from his pants. 

He knows he won't take long as he throws a clumsy fist around his cock, desperately jerking himself with his eyes screwed tightly shut. He thinks about what it would be like to squeeze Heidi’s tits - Kenny made it sound so amazing. He thinks about running his tongue over a rosy nipple, about fucking up into her, like Kenny reenacted. 

He squeezes his dick tighter, breathing out a soft “haah” as he feels the familiar warmth build under his navel. Cartman is a little hazy about what going down on a chick actually involves, but he imagines lapping at her wetness, regardless. He wonders what she’d taste like, if she’d be hot under his tongue.

He replays what Kenny said about Heidi squealing, how she made “such hot, little noises” and then he’s suddenly coming into the toilet bowl, his orgasm ripped from him abruptly with a wide-mouthed gasp as he’s taken completely off-guard by just how hot he finds that particular detail. 

As he calms, he breathes heavy, laboured breaths - one hand braced on the cool tiles in front of him, and the other still hanging loosely around his deflating dick.

Once the haze in his brain clears enough that he can move, he snatches a tissue from the dispenser and wipes at his hands and his crotch before throwing it into the bowl and flushing. 

He watches his mess spin down the drain, thoughts slowly returning to his shell-shocked mind.

‘...Okay. Well. _Fuck.’_ he thinks, ‘...so I _might_ have a problem.’


	5. Confession

After his last lecture of the day, Eric stalks his way to Kenny’s truck - fuck, he really wasn’t looking forwards to this. The other boys are already inside, waiting. 

“Hurry up, fatass!” Kyle shouts from his open window. Cartman just rolls his eyes as he throws himself into the seat besides Kenny - kind of regretting persuading everyone to let him have permanent shotgun rights all those years ago.

Kenny looks over at him briefly before flicking the end of his cigarette out the truck window and pulling away from his parking space. It’s pretty typical for Eric to be in a mood, so Stan and Kyle don’t think twice about the way he slouches, sulking in his seat. They carry on their conversation like he's not even there.

Kenny, however, keeps quiet - and it makes Eric's nerves prickle. There’s an invisible weight between them, and he knows exactly what’s waiting for him on the other side of Stan and Kyle getting out the truck.

When they do leave, Kenny just takes a deep breath and sighs. _Here we go..._ He turns to Cartman “Dude... what the hell happened today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, _Kenny._ ”

“Huh” Kenny pulls the truck away and starts driving, “Because it seemed like you had a hissy fit and stormed off at lunch today.” Eric rolls his eyes. “But what do I know? I’m just the guy trying to help you out.”

Ouch, well that tugged at something in Cartman’s chest. “Screw you, Kenny” he mumbles.

Kenny blows a breath between pursed lips and shakes his head, “Ah, I’m sorry. That was a low blow. You don’t have to tell me what’s up, dude, I don't want to pressure you or anything. I guess...I just thought we had something good going y’know?” he looks at Cartman, “and I wanna _help_ you, dude.”

Cartman buries his face in his hands and scrubs at his eyes “Aww, _fuck_ ”

“Cartman. What’s up, dude? “ Kenny asks softly. He seems genuinely concerned.

“Goddammit, Kenny, I’m fuckin’ _embarrassed_ \- that's what's up! What the fuck do you want from me? _Jesus._ ” 

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes! _Fuck!_ The way you tell your dumbass stories, talking about all that hot shit like moaning and fuckin’ gumdrop nipples and godammit you just had to go and fuck _Heidi._ ” 

“Woah, woah. So let me get this straight. You weren’t pissed? You-”

“I jacked it Kenny! I jacked it in a Goddamn college toilet because I’m a fuckin’ virgin who’s never gonna get to touch a girl in his whole life. You said it yourself, Kenny. I’m an asshole.” Christ, he’s _mortified._

“Wow, uh...shit, Cartman, in a toilet??””

“Yes, in a fuckin’ _toilet. Fuck.”_ Cartman hears a snort besides him and looks up to glare at Kenny.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just - fuck, man, I had no idea you were this pent up. Wow...shit dude, you must be ready to burst, ha!” Kenny slaps one hand tightly over his mouth like he’s trying to force the laughter back behind his lips, back down his throat. Eric hides his beetroot face in his hands again.

“Just get me home, asshole.” 

“Shit, Cartman I’m - I’m sorry, it’s just a bit of a shock to the system, y'know I - I’m really sorry, dude.” He turns to Eric in an attempt to be sincere but there’s still a glint in his eyes. “Damn, though. My story really got you that worked up, huh? I feel like I’ve outdone myself, I’m kinda proud!”

Cartman just grumbles into his hands, and he feels the truck grind to a halt.

“So...Heidi.” He hears outside the darkness of the little bubble he’s made himself.

He nods into his hands, “mm”

“Why her?”

“I dunno, she’s...nice.”

“Yeah, _real_ nice.” Kenny teases, and then frowns, “Shit, dude, do you - do you mind me talking about her - that we, y’know-” He makes a crude gesture with his hands, “ _fucked_. I uh- don’t wanna step on your toes or anything.” Cartman groans before pushing himself upright. He feels a little drained. “Nah. It’s not like I’ve got a chance with her.” He shrugs, swallowing his pride, “and I guess it’s kind of cool hearing about what she’s like and shit.”

“Huh. Well - I can tell you more if you like?” Kenny genuinely offers, like this is normal. Like there’s nothing fucked up about it all.

“Nah. Not right now. I’ve had enough of this shit for one day.”

“Yeah...yeah I get that dude. Hey, look - thanks for trusting me with this shit, Cartman. I’m proud of you, dude.” He looks at Eric, sincere this time. “And I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart and all that.”

“You’d better not, asshole.”

“Damn, though…jacking off in a uni toilet. We’ve really gotta get you laid, man.”

“You’re telling _me_.” Cartman huffs, before stepping out of the truck.

“Hey,” Kenny calls after him. “we’ll get you some soon enough, dude. Leave it to me, I’m sure I can work some magic” he grins.

“Sure, whatever” He starts to turn away.

“And Cartman?” Cartman swings himself back around like some kind of moody teen, cocking his head in a way that says ‘what _now?'_

“You’re not an asshole. I’m sorry I ever said that. You’re actually pretty tolerable when you open up a little”

Eric doesn't answer him, just shakes his head and starts trudging back to his place, hearing Kenny’s truck pull away as he does so.

It’s only once he’s inside that he allows himself to question what the fuck just happened. He can barely admit to _himself_ what he did during his lunch hour, and yet Kenny had managed to rip the confession right out of him in a matter of moments. It's like he _trusts_ Kenny or some shit. And the worst thing? It felt good to get his feelings out there. _Ugh_ , fuckin’ _weak_.

He pushes away every thought he has about the day, refusing to relive any of it. He can’t even bring himself to jack off again - despite all this new information he has about Heidi, the idea of repeating what he did earlier - what he admitted to Kenny - makes him want to puke. He’s not used to feeling embarrassed. It's just not him.

He manages to distract himself with food and video games until he climbs into bed, perhaps a little earlier than he usually would, eager to get the day finished with. 

He’s tossing and turning, refusing to acknowledge the neglected hard-on he’s sporting in his pj pants when a message pings on his phone, and he sees Kenny’s name written across the screen.

_“You’ve got no lectures Wednesday morning, right?”_

_“No, why?”_

_“Wanna come round tomorrow after your last lecture? We can get high and talk about Heidi”_

_“No”_

_“I know you wanna hear more about her killer tits”_

_“I said no, dumbass”_

Eric locks his phone and drops it to his chest. It pings again within seconds. 

_“Sweet, see you tomorrow. Bring snacks and all those nasty, burning questions I know you have”_

Eric sighs “ _Fine”_

Why not? He’s got no idea what the hell is going on anymore so why the fuck not - and while he’s at it, the mere mention of Heidi’s tits tips him over the edge. He sighs, shoves his pants down and reluctantly, irritably, fists his dick - succumbing to his urges like a damn animal, a slave in his own body - and fuck, does it feel good.

Jesus, what is _wrong_ with him.

He doesn’t have much time to ponder the answer to this question before he comes and promptly passes out, all within a few minutes of each other.

When he wakes up, it takes Cartman a couple of seconds before the memories from yesterday flood back into his consciousness and he groans. Shit, what a mess. He hauls himself out of bed to the restroom. While he pisses, he stares at his reflection in the dingy bathroom mirror and wonders whether he actually meant it when he said he’d visit Kenny tonight, whether he actually has the guts to. 

He trudges back to the communal kitchen and throws some colourful cereal into a bowl for himself before taking it back to his room. As he mindlessly shovels the loops into his mouth, he wonders with a groggy mind what he’s so afraid of. Why he’s so affected by all this shit. Should he really be reacting as he is? Kenny _is_ his friend - he has been for years. In fact he’s the only one of his ‘friends’ who he doesn’t regularly argue with, and who isn’t routinely an asshole to him (even when he deserves it).

He showers, brushes his teeth, and throws some clothes on - heading out about half an hour earlier than he needs to. Kenny doesn’t have lectures today, so Eric’s left to his own devices to get to college. As he sits on the public bus, he stares out the window. Kenny’s not just ‘not an asshole’ to him - he’s actively _nice_ . Cartman has always been one for schemes, for playing the long game - and perhaps that’s what he’s wary of in the back of his mind. That maybe Kenny is playing some elaborate joke on him - but truthfully, he _knows_ that Kenny’s not like this, and he’s proven it time and time again to Cartman. Maybe it’s time to let go of some shit, to finally accept Kenny being so kind. And why should he keep being so embarrassed? It’s not like Kenny would ever use any of this against him. He’s not _Cartman_.

Eric steps off the bus and heads to the little convenience store on campus. Once he’s there he eyes up all the different types of chips and candy. You know what? Fuck it. Kenny’s right. He _does_ have a lot of questions - and Kenny is here offering him a golden, judgement-free ticket to learn anything he wants about his dream girl. Maybe it’s time he finally embraces the opportunity with open arms - finally stops being such a pent up, angry, _embarrassed_ asshole. Honestly, he’s _tired_ of feeling like this all the time, of allowing himself to be so humiliated by the questions he’s asking or the things he’s confessed to Kenny.

So what if Kenny’s in the know about his...problem? If there’s one guy who won’t judge that shit it’s him. Goddamn, the dude talks about his own butthole every other day, why should Eric be so ashamed? 

He picks up two family-sized bags of chips and a whole bunch of candies. He also snags a large bottle of soda and a couple packs of instant noodles on the way to the checkout. That should be about enough to last the two of them tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this?? A breakthrough??


	6. Guidance

Cartman chooses to have lunch on his own today - he finds a nice secluded bench well away from the boys' usual spot. He really doesn’t want to ruin this good mood, and Kyle always seems to have a talent of knowing just what buttons to press to get Cartman riled up. He instead mulls over what questions he might be brave enough to ask Kenny later as he eats his lunch, alone.

By the time Eric’s last lecture is over with, he finds himself actually looking forward to seeing Kenny - a world away from how he felt yesterday.

He nods at Kenny as he approaches the truck, and Kenny smiles - casually lifting his hand from the steering wheel in response, another cigarette between his fingers.

“Where are the other fags?” Cartman asks as he slides into the truck.

“Ah, Stan’s hanging out with Wendy, and Kyle joined some kind of club - debate club or some shit? I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.” He shrugs.

"Sweet, let's get to yours."

"Wow, Cartman, eager much?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just pumped for these snacks," He kicks his backpack which rustles under his toes, “- I’m starving.”

Kenny taps the ash from his cigarette out the window “Sure - nothing to do with hearing about how much Heidi Turner likes sucking dick.”

Eric shrugs, “Yeah. Yeah, and that.”

“Hey, so you know I said I’d work some magic?” Kenny asks, taking one final drag on his cigarette, before stubbing it out and adding it to the pile in his cup holder.

“Yeah?” Eric’s curiosity is piqued.

Kenny buckles himself in and starts the truck’s engine, “Well, there’s a party happening this weekend - there'll be a shit tonne of people there, and ergo - a shit tonne of hot girls. I bet if you came with me we could get you your first blowie...maybe even-” he bats his eyelashes at Cartman, “your first _kiss~_ ”

“Shut the fuck up, Kenny.” Kenny makes kissing sounds at him, “I said knock it off!” He shoves Kenny’s shoulders with a grin and Kenny snickers, beaming back at him. 

The truck is quiet for a couple of moments while Eric considers whether Kenny could actually be right about this party - he’s been right about most things lately. Eric allows something akin to excitement roll through his chest. It ekes onto his face and he grins to himself.

“So…” Eric looks back to the road ahead of them, reminds himself of his vow to stop being so embarrassed, and promptly swallows whatever pride he has left, “ _kissing.._.”

“Mmm, kissing.” Kenny agrees dreamily, not looking away from the road, not saying anything more. Goddammit, that asshole knows exactly what he’s doing - Eric is forced to continue.

“...What’s the big deal? I guess I kinda get it but - I dunno, it seems kinda gross.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, but is still smiling. He dutifully tells him that no, it’s _not_ gross, and actually one of his favourite activities. “Think of it this way, dude - it’s warm, it's hot. It’s just sex but with your mouths. A warm up. Making out is underrated, dude. You can really work someone up with that shit.”

“And you don’t get bored?”

“Were you listening to me, Cartman? I said it's like _fucking_ with your mouths.”

“Yeah but - what’s the _point?"_

“Ugh, _dude_ ,” Kenny feigns exasperation, but does so with a grin - he knows it’s okay to tease Cartman a little, sometimes. He’s good at gauging emotions - especially Cartman’s, it seems.

“Alright. Imagine this. There’s this hot girl or guy, whatever-” Cartman bleches “ _f_ _ine._ There’s this hot _girl,_ and you just know you’re gonna end up fucking her. But first you make out. It’s like - it’s the first point of contact, right? First base and all that. It’s the very first thing you get to feel _together,_ and it’s just this-” he gestures wildly with one hand “it’s this _display_ of how much you want, how much you _need_ each other, right, dude? Like, touching each other just isn't enough - you _need_ to feel more of each other.”

His description is verging on poetic, and Eric is a little taken aback. He wouldn't have expected Kenny of all people - his poor, white trash friend - to be able to present such wisdom, and so elegantly. Once again, he feels Kenny opening up ways of thinking that he’s never even considered.

“Huh.” He says, kind of dumbly, taking it all in.

“I actually know a load of people who don’t like making out - not even during sex.”

“Why?” Cartman looks at him and frowns.

“It’s just too intimate for them y’know? Too romantic or whatever? I’m not one of those people though, dude. I eat that shit _up_. I see it as just another way to fuck. As I said - it’s kind of a reflection, a - a tease, of what actually fucking them will be like. You get to feel their lips, their tongue - get a literal _taste_ of how they’re gonna feel on your dick later on.” He shoots Cartman a nasty grin and Cartman finds himself nodding in agreement, or encouragement, or maybe even admiration - just wanting to hear more. Kenny has a way of wrapping whoever he’s talking to right up in his story - pulling them in and making them _feel_ every single word he says. Or maybe that’s just Eric. He feels almost entranced. 

Kenny looks back to the road “I mean, take Heidi for example - damn, was she eager.”

Eric snorts, but he feels his dick stir a little.

“The way she stuck her tongue in my mouth, fuckin’ inhaled my tonsils - then that same tongue was on my dick within minutes, and I bet you can figure out the kind of attitude she had down there.”

And he could - he’d watched extensive amounts of deep-throating porn since their first talk. Almost studied that shit. He could only imagine how her pretty pink mouth would look over his - Awh, no no _no_. Not again. Why does Kenny always have to have such a filthy way with words?

Cartman stretches his jacket over his crotch as discreetly as he can. But of course - “Dude, you should have seen - _shit_ , Cartman, are you popping a boner in my truck?” Kenny’s eyes open a little wider in disbelief and he cracks a grin. “Holy _shit_ , dude, you really were telling the truth yesterday! Oh man I-” For the first time, he seems a little lost for words, not entirely sure how to treat the situation. It's like doesn’t want to anger Cartman, feels like he should tread carefully, delicately but _holy shit_ \- this is funny as hell. He tries so bad to stifle his laughter, but with only relative success.

“Fuckin’ - screw you, _Kenny._ ” Eric snaps back, horrified, cheeks ablaze. They pull up to Kenny’s place, Kenny still honourably trying to stop the giggles from bubbling up his throat. It’s only after stewing for all of a minute that Cartman remembers the vow he made to himself. 

He breathes a deep, slow breath and sits up a little straighter, his jacket riding up on his lap, “You know - you know what, Kenny? _Yes_. I’ve got a boner in your dumbass truck - I’ve got a boner and what the fuck are you gonna do about it?” He opens his door, “Now hurry the fuck up and tell me about Heidi’s tits.” and jumps out of the truck.

Kenny is frozen in place for a couple of moments, wholly impressed - astounded, even - by this sudden change in character. “ _Damn_ , Cartman.” he laughs under his breath, nodding his head with an amused respect as he watches him stroll confidently towards Kenny’s dorm.

“Hurry up, asshole!” He hears a distant voice shout back at him.

Half an hour later, the boys are sitting on Kenny’s bed with the window open as wide as it could go and a towel stuffed at the base of his dorm room door.

“So, you’re telling me girls have _three_ holes??”

“Uh huh.” Kenny says with a strained voice before sighing a cloud of thick smoke.

“You’re lying.” Eric takes the joint from Kenny’s outstretched hand.

“Nope.”

“ _Three holes._ ”

“Yep.” 

“ _Three??_ ”

“Yes!” Kenny cracks up on the bed next to Cartman. Cartman looks at Kenny, trying desperately to suppress laughter and a lungful of hot smoke. He can’t hold it any longer and also cracks up, cackling wholeheartedly alongside Kenny.

“Fucking no way.” he breathes, “Incredible.”

The two laugh uncontrollably, tears in their eyes before Kenny finally takes a deep breath and asks, “So...what's changed, dude?”

Cartman exhales a flurry of smoke and passes the end of the joint back to Kenny. He shrugs, “I’m just done with being ashamed of my dick. Nothing more to say really.”

“Huh. Strong words to live by.”

“I know.” He stretches out a stubby hand, “Gimme.” Kenny tosses a bag of chips to Eric “Sweeeet” He smiles as he breaks into the bag of cheesy goodness.

Kenny takes one last tight-lipped pull on the joint before crushing it on his windowsill. “It’s dead” He announces.

“That’s chill. I’m fuckin’ baked.” Eric grins to himself - and he really is. It feels like the fit of laughter is still lighting up his brain, like his whole body is smiling - and he swears chips have never tasted so _amazing_. He hums to himself happily.

Kenny stretches out on the bed, legs hanging over Eric’s lap, and the two of them just chill for a few minutes, closing their eyes and taking in the music Kenny put on. Eventually, Cartman lifts his head from the wall he’s leaning on and pats Kenny on his shin “Heidi.” he mumbles.

“Heidiii.” Kenny repeats.

“Tell me about her.”

“Mmm...” Kenny hums, hands grabbing crudely in front of him. “They were _so_ good, dude.”

“ _Awesome_.”

Eric thumbs at the material of Kenny’s jeans. Wow, it’s like his fingers have a thousand more nerves than usual. It feels fuckin’ _weird_ , but kind of...fascinating. He realises he’s tipped way forwards and straightens himself back up again. “I have a question.”

“Go for it, big guy. I’m all ears.” Kenny cups his hand to the side of his head and giggles to himself.

“So…” Eric thinks for a second, really struggling to put the sentence together, “you said you went down on her right?”

“Right.”

“How?” He makes grabby-hands at the bottle of soda besides Kenny, who, with great effort, picks it up and passes it to him.

“As in, how to do it or...how does _she_ like it or…” He trails off, eyes glazing over a little as he blinks up at the ceiling.

“Uhh, yeah - let's start with how to do it.”

“Well,” Kenny looks down towards Cartman, hands clasped over his chest now, “You just - mostly you…” his mouth splits into a grin, “Ha, fuck I’m too high for this, dude.”

“ _Kenny_ ” Cartman whines, “ _Tell meee_.”

He sighs, trying again, “Alright so-” Cartman watches as his eyes dart around the room, obviously fighting to string his own words together against the thick haze of a weed-stupid brain, “Okay. You’ve got her here, right?” He puts his hands in front of his face.

“Right.”

“Tease her, dude, you’ve gotta _tease._ Kiss like - kiss everywhere. Up and down her thighs, her stomach, over her pussy lips” With a grin, he peppers the air in front of him with quick little kisses, before snorting with laughter. “Awh man, no - I’m struggling, here, dude. Words are - they’re too difficult right now.”

Eric nods slowly, “Know what you mean.”

Kenny thinks for a second and then gasps, “Dude, I have a fuckin’ _awesome_ idea.” He grabs his phone, taps something on the screen and then turns it round to show Cartman. There are two naked figures on the screen - one on top of the other. “They can do all the hard work and I can sit back and give you pointers. Fuckin’ _genius_ , right dude?!”

Cartman feels uneasy - a flutter of arousal cutting through his high at the mere sight of the porn. But...he wants to learn, right? His dumbass brain can’t think of a reason to say no, and probably wouldn’t be able to come up with a way to say as much even if he wanted to right now.

“Sure.” he shrugs.

Kenny props himself up on one elbow and tilts the screen towards Cartman. He presses play. The image of a man swapping saliva with the woman beneath him jumps to life. Wet smacks of lips and tongues fill the room, and Cartman feels his cheeks warm at just how crude it all feels. Whenever he’s watched porn, it's either been with earphones or with the volume played ever-so-cautiously out loud. This just feels like a middle finger to all the sacred, unwritten rules of porn-watching - and Kenny seems like he just doesn’t give a shit.

“She’s hot.” He states. “Killer tits, damn look at those babies.”

“Yeah.” Cartman breathes, not entirely sure if the words have actually left his mouth or if he just imagined them. He squirms a little under Kenny’s legs.

The guy gives one firm, final kiss on her lips before moving down to her chin, her neck, her chest - pausing to swirl his tongue around each rosy nipple - before trailing further down, down.

“See - lots of smooches. Chicks _love_ that.” Kenny pipes up. Fuck, Eric is way too high. His mouth feels like cotton and he’s very aware of the pounding in his chest as he carries on watching the small screen in Kenny’s hand. The woman's crotch takes up most of the shot now, and the man gives one last kiss just above her slit. He spreads her lips, and Eric takes a sharp inhale as he notices how her folds glisten with wetness. A glob of saliva lands between them as the man spits.

“Aw, what the fuck” Kenny scrunches up his nose “He didn’t have to do that, dude.”

“She was already wet, right?” Cartman asks. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and suddenly all too aware of his skin, his breathing, and how he’s already so hard under Kenny’s shins. He prays that Kenny hasn’t noticed. 

His mind spins a little. Fuck, he really hopes he doesn’t do something super weak like have a panic attack or some shit. Kenny’s voice brings him back to reality. “Right! Look at you learning, dude!” he smiles at him and laughs warmly. The eye contact feels way too intimate while breathy moans gush from the phone and both sets of eyes quickly snap back to the screen.

“Ugh, and straight for the clit. Dude, Cartman, if you ever go down on a girl, don’t just dive in like that. Fuck, such a strong start as well…”

The woman on the screen lets out a high-pitched gasp and it makes Eric twitch in his pants. Shit, shit, _shit._ Kenny _has_ to be able to feel him now. He wishes he could shove Kenny’s legs off of himself but he feels way too heavy - trapped - to do anything.

“What am I - what was he meant to do?”

“I guess it depends on the girl - always, _always_ ask what they like, dude. You never want to assume. But personally, I would have sucked the inside of her thighs first. I would have kissed all along her lips before just straight up spreading her like this douchebag. I would have licked up here and here” he gestures with his finger up the chick's folds, “I would have licked pretty much everywhere but _there.”_ he gestures to where the man’s tongue is lapping hungrily at her clit. Shrill moans echo from the phones' tinny speakers.

“Sounds like she likes it.” Eric frowns. He tries adjusting himself to a position where he’s not so pressed up against Kenny, but stops in his tracks when he accidentally grinds against his calf in a way that sends a rush of heat through his stomach.

Kenny rolls his eyes, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Eric’s red-faced struggle, “Well duh, dude. First of all, it's _porn_. She’s being paid to sound like she likes it. Most girls find their clit way too sensitive to be played with straight off the bat like this asshole is doing. Second of all, just because she might somehow be enjoying this doesn’t mean it’s the _best way_. Dude’s fuckin’ dived in at the deep end. He started with dessert, didn’t even finish his starter - straight in at ice-cream and completely skipping the olives and dough balls, y’know?”

Eric squints, trying desperately to make his brain compute. “...No.” he finally decides.

“Dude’s gone straight for the clit - the end game. He’s already racing to make her come by the looks of it.” It was true, the guy was flicking his tongue at light-speed, “What’s the point in that? What’s the big rush? I’m not saying it won’t ever work but - why would you not have fun with it, take your time? If I’m thigh-deep in a girl, it’s because I like her - because I want to make her _feel good_ , dude. I want to draw it out, make it a whole experience for her. I mean look at this guy-” He gestures a disappointed hand “What is he? A fuckin’ fifteen year old having his first time?” The chicks back arches and a series of squeals pour from the phone. Eric grits his teeth. He can feel the seam of his khakis pressing painfully into his junk.

“That’s what going down on someone looks like when your only goal is to fuck - what only caring about getting your own dick wet looks like. Hang on.” He turns the screen and taps at it again. When he turns it back around, there are two girls on the screen, one already on her knees in front of the other.

“Amateur lesbian.” Kenny grins, “Usually the best thing to watch if you wanna see how it’s really done.” The girl on her knees strokes gently up and down her partner’s thighs, smiling up at her before stretching up and sharing a passionate kiss. “Gotta say, I’ve seen this one before...a few times, actually.” Kenny laughs.

Eric can’t bring himself to laugh back - his brain already fully occupied with remembering how to breathe. The girl on her knees seems to follow Kenny’s words to a T - teasing her partner with little licks, kisses and nips all over her thighs, her pussy lips. Eric digs his fingers into his own thighs. He knows he promised himself to never be ashamed again, but this is a whole other _world_ of torture. And smoking has only heightened his senses - the absolute ache in his pants. What a _stupid_ fuckin’ idea.

Kenny moves a leg oh-so-slightly and brushes against Cartman's dick. It sends another unwanted strike of arousal through Cartman’s whole body and he has to furrow his brow, scrunch up his eyes, to suppress the moan that threatens to spill from his throat.

No. No way. He can’t deal with this shit. He finally works up enough courage, or perhaps enough discomfort to push at Kenny’s legs. “ _Dude_...” he grits out.

Kenny doesn’t even break his gaze with the phone, “Cartman, if you need to jack off just do it.”

“Kenny, what the - what the _fuck?!”_ He feels winded with how absolutely _insane_ that suggestion is. The fuck is wrong with him?!

Kenny casually turns to look at Cartman “It’s not gay, dude. I wouldn’t look at you or anything.”

“Kenny, that’s fuckin - that’s -” he can’t even find the words.

“I’m just saying.” Kenny shrugs, “You don’t have to. But I wouldn’t care if you did.” He turns back to the porn, “See how she’s using her tongue there? Way more reasonable than that other asshole.”

Eric is completely shell-shocked. His heart is beating hard in his _throat_ and he feels like he might throw up, or pass out. A wail cuts through his thoughts and he looks at the phone. The chick getting eaten out has a hand gripped tight in the other girls hair. A deep flush has started in her cheeks and is beginning to creep down her chest. She’s moaning in earnest now, body writhing under her partners tongue. Eric grits his teeth and shoves Kenny’s legs off his lap.

“Don’t you _dare_ fuckin’ look” he spits

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Kenny says simply, and turns around so that his back is facing Eric, but the screen is still in view.

Eric rips open his flies before he can think twice about what he’s doing and reaches into his boxers, pulling out his almost angry-looking cock. He hisses at the contact, the relief. He starts desperately fisting his dick, the weed in his system heightening every wave of arousal he feels at his navel. It feels like his entire body is being rocked with pleasure with every stroke.

“ _Shit._ ” he hisses without meaning to, already hurtling towards orgasm. And then something awful happens. To Cartman’s absolute horror-

“You see how she’s speeding up a little, but not going crazy?”

 _No_. _Fuck no_.

“And she’s doing the same thing over and over- not changing it up at all. Once you’ve got a good thing going you don’t stop, okay? Not when she’s that close to coming.”

Eric tries to tell him to shut the fuck up but it dies as a pathetic groan in his throat. “See how her thighs are fuckin’ shaking, dude? That’s when you know you’re doing good.” Fuck they were - the girl was quivering all over. “You know Heidi shook like that, too, right? It looked like she was having a damn fit or something. Seriously, dude, she nearly crushed my skull when she was getting close.”

Eric grunts low in his throat at this. His breathing is ragged, desperate, and the crude slapping sounds of masturbation fill the room. He knows should be mortified but his mind is so all-consumed with pleasure right now that he can only focus on one single thing - how fuckin’ bad he needs to come. 

“She’s nearly there. Sounds real hot doesn’t it?” Kenny notes. The girl starts to moan in short, regular gasps. 

“ _Uhh_ -” Fuck, maybe this is how he dies. “ _Uh huh_ \- _hah_ ” He struggling to even cover up the sounds of his own arousal any more. Pathetic.

“Fuck, look at her squirm.” Kenny reaches into his bedside table, “Yeah, she’s gonna come.” He takes out a box of tissues, “She’s coming.” He passes them behind him. Eric barely has time to snatch a clumsy handful from the box before his stomach tenses, a completely undesired moan gurgles from his throat, and he empties himself into the tissue - brows knitted together, eyes squeezing tightly shut, and mouth gaping in an almost painful looking, silent scream. Wave after wave of molten pleasure ripples through his body and he tries his best to swallow all the desperate sounds that attempt to rip their way up his throat as he rides through his orgasm. 

He distantly hears the porn chick coming down from her own.

He eventually starts to see colour again. “Fuck.” He’s still breathing heavily, still dizzy from coming, as he quickly wipes at himself and tucks his dick away. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Sounded good.” He hears Kenny, a grin in his voice.

“What the - what the fuck, Kenny. Don’t be a fuckin’ fag.” he says halfheartedly, eyes closing and still panting slightly- he can’t recall having an orgasm this good. Like, ever.

Kenny turns around much sooner than Eric would have preferred.

“That the first time you’ve jacked it after smoking?” He laughs.

Eric nods. He opens his eyes again and wipes at the sweat on his forehead - he can only imagine what a mess he looks like right now and he’s suddenly very aware and conscious of the smell of cum.

“You can’t beat that feeling, man.” He grins, “So did you learn much?”

“Huh? Oh - yeah. Yeah I did, actually.” Kenny swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands.

“Awesome.” He grabs the tissues besides Cartman and crosses the room to toss them in the trash. Cartman gapes at him. “Those are my fuckin’ cum tissues, Kenny - you're so gross.”

Kenny just shrugs, and it's only as he’s crossing the room to sit back next to Cartman that he realises that Kenny is sporting his own hard-on.

“Aren’t you gonna-” Cartman nods dumbly towards it.

“What? Oh - no, I don’t care. It’ll go down.” Cartman can’t fathom a world where he’d be able to neglect a boner like that and succeed. He vaguely thinks that it's unfair how he’s just lost his entire mind in front of (or rather, behind) Kenny, but Kenny’s just so experienced or whatever that he doesn’t even have to think twice about his arousal. He's not controlled by it like Cartman seems to be. He’s distantly jealous.

Very suddenly, the combination of coming down from a killer orgasm and still being pretty high settles heavily on Eric’s eyelids. 

“I’m just gonna…” He tucks himself under Kenny’s soft duvet. He’s bought some pj’s with him but there’s no time for that right now. Absolute exhaustion hits him like a freight train, and before he knows it, before he can think about anything that’s just happened, he plummets into unconsciousness. He hears Kenny chuckle out a “Yeah, get some rest, big guy.” and feels his hair being ruffled before he passes out.

At some point during the night Eric seeps back into consciousness - just for a split moment or two. Right before he slips back, he swears can faintly hear the slapping of skin on skin, of breathy moans, coming from somewhere in the room - his groggy brain can’t quite place what the sounds mean, where they’re coming from. 

He’s pulled back into his deep slumber before he can make sense of anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little longer than expected to write - apologies! I just really enjoyed writing this one and got a bit too wrapped up in it...hence it being about twice as long as all the other chapters so far... Anyway, hope you enjoyed :)  
> 


	7. Denial

Cartman blinks his eyes open against the sunlight streaming through Kenny’s window. Shit, where is he? Oh. Yeah...Images from yesterday’s events slowly ooze back into his mind, and he groans. He pushes himself up slowly - he’s by no means still high, but there’s definitely a feeling of residual stickiness slowing each of his thoughts.

Realising how hot and sweaty he is, he throws the covers from himself and is reminded that he slept fully clothed - ugh, that was a mistake. He swings his legs off the bed and notes a blanket and a single pillow crumpled on the floor next to his feet. Huh, Kenny must have slept there. Cartman feels vaguely guilty for stealing his bed. As if on queue -

“Oh - mornin’, sleeping beauty.” Kenny strolls in with a plate of pop-tarts in one hand a coffee in the other. He hands the plate to Cartman, sets the coffee down on his bedside table, and then takes a seat across the room on his desk chair.

Cartman takes the plate and wordlessly starts shovelling a tart into his mouth.

“What time is it?” He asks between bites.

“Eleven.”

“You slept on the floor.”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t uncomfortable?” Cartman isn’t entirely sure why he cares.

“Nah, slept like a log.”

“Same.”

“Yeah I know - damn, snore much?” he laughs and stretches his arms towards the ceiling in a full-body yawn.

“Don’t be a bitch, Kenny.” Cartman pauses eating and frowns at his plate, “How did you know I was about to wake up?”

“Oh, I didn’t. I‘d made them for myself.” Cartman’s frown deepens. “But it’s no problem dude - hope you like your coffee with milk and two sugars.”

Cartman chews thoughtfully for a minute. “You’re fuckin’ weird, Kenny.”

“How come?”

“Who just gives up their own food like that?”

“It’s called being nice, Cartman..”

“Hmm…” Kenny’s kindness never sits quite right with him. He just can’t process that being this nice is possible. It kind of makes Cartman feel...bad. “Take one.” He holds out the plate.

“Nah, it’s chill - I’m not really hu-”

“Take one before I change my mind, dumbass.” Eric grumbles. Kenny exhales an amused breath from his nose, “Damn, Cartman sharing. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Cartman rolls his eyes. He wonders why he felt the need to do that as he picks up the remainder of his pop-tart.

They sit, munching on their breakfasts in a comfortable silence. Kenny thumbs at his phone and Cartman suddenly can’t help but think about what was displayed on it just the night before. He feels his stomach drop a little, the single pop tart feeling unusually heavy inside him. 

His mind flits over what happened, and he tries to process it all for the first time.

It almost feels like a dream, or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that any of it actually happened. He recalls Kenny calmly passing him some tissues as he came and cringes - his cheeks warming at the memory. The fact that Kenny has heard the sound of his fist slapping his balls, that he knows what noises slip from his throat when he jacks it makes him feel distressingly vulnerable. Though Kenny is being unfathomably kind, as is usual, he can’t help feel like he was made a fool of.

“I’m not gay.” He states firmly, eyes focused on his empty plate.

“Woah, woah. Where’s this coming from, Cartman?” 

He looks up at Kenny, “I’m not a fag. Just thought you might need reminding.”

“What - _why_?”

Cartman’s gaze flits back to his plate, “I dunno...you’re just always talking about sucking dick or taking it up the ass or whatever and - I just want to make it clear that I’m not interested in that shit.” He looks up again to see a completely bemused face gawking back at him.

“What the - why the hell do you think _I_ would be? Cartman - is this about last night?” his expression softens a little, “Dude, I told you it wasn’t -”

“ _No_. Maybe. I just - I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

“You were the one who jacked it, Cartman!”

“You _made_ me!”

“Cartman - I did not _make_ you jack off.” 

“You so did.”

“ _Cartman_ . What the hell makes you think I’d _ever_ want to touch you, what the _fuck_ , dude.”

“Then _why_?? Why the fuck are you doing all this?”

“Because I want to help you! Come on, dude, you _know_ this already!”

“Yeah but _why_? I don’t get it, Kenny! ”

“Because…” Kenny’s body slumps slightly, and he rubs at his brow “Because you’re my friend, man..and I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I don’t get _upset_.” Cartman spits.

“No. You get mean.”

“Stop acting like you know shit, Kenny.”

“Fine. I don’t know shit.” He shrugs, “I don’t know that you’ve built up this huge wall around yourself, your feelings; I don’t know that you’ve got so much shit going on in that brain of yours that you can’t help but explode at the tiniest, _dumbest_ things that Kyle says; I don't know that you get mean and angry and storm off to the uni toilets to sulk because it’s easier than showing that you’re upset, than actually _opening up_ for once.”

Cartman snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Fine. I don’t know all that shit. But, Cartman, I know that you’re my best friend.” Cartman freezes, “and I can see how far you’ve come already, dude, and I’m _so_ proud of you. I mean _fuck_ \- you just _shared_ your pop-tarts with me.”

Cartman scowls at his plate. Kenny sighs.

“I just want to see you happy, okay? I’m not doing any of this shit for me. I want you to trust me - to keep on trusting me. I wouldn't break that trust, Cartman. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

There’s silence for a few beats while Cartman studies all the little crumbs on his plate. He looks up, a kind of pain in his eyes, “I’m your best friend?”

“Of _course,_ dude. You see me having truck-talks with anyone else?”

“No.”

“Well there you go. You can be an asshole, Cartman, but I’m not stupid. I see what’s underneath this front you put up.”

“...What’s that?”

“An awesome, smart, witty guy.” he smirks, “A guy who deserves a chick with banging tits like Heidi.”

Cartman smiles slightly but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. He sighs, “No I don’t. I’m not you.”

“ _Yes_ . You _do_. And dude, I’m not as great as you think I am. Quit putting me on this pedestal and quit putting yourself down, man. Believe in yourself for once.”

“How, Kenny? Everyone thinks I’m this fat, cocky, asshole. How am I meant to undo this?”

“Just keep doing what you’ve been doing! Remember what I said - chicks dig honesty. You’re not a bad looking dude, you know. It’s just - the way you treat people can sometimes be kind of... _ugly_...but we’re working on that! Just wait for this weekend, dude - open up a little and the chicks will be all over you!”

Cartman snorts again, and allows a smile to pass over his lips, “What if there’s none left for you?”

Kenny’s face lights up and he laughs, “Ahh, I’ve got other options.”

Cartman’s cheeks warm a little, “Oh...yeah.” He grabs his (Kenny’s?) coffee from the bed-side table, “So you’re not going to gay jump me in my sleep or something?”

“No, Cartman.” Kenny smiles.

He sips at his coffee, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. Not just about Kenny touching his dick while he sleeps but about - well - everything. 

He looks around the room as he drinks - his gaze briefly landing Kenny’s meshed trash can and the tissues - the evidence that last night actually happened. He squints - there’s way more tissues than he used what -

It floods back to him.

“ _Dude..._ Did you jack it last night??”

Kenny follows his gaze to the trash “Uhh…”

“You so did! Aww, _gross,_ Kenny!”

“Dude! Don’t judge me! You know exactly how good that kush was! I had a boner that just wouldn’t quit and -”

“I don’t want to hear it!!” Cartman yells but he’s laughing, “I was in the same room! _Kenny!_ Our cum could be touching in the trash! That's so - that’s -” He pretends to retch.

Kenny cracks up - a full-body laugh - crossing his arms over his stomach and almost folding himself in half. A blush rushes to his freckled cheeks.

“Oh, man! Cartman, stop. Don’t embarrass me.” Cartman keeps retching, “Cartman, fuck!” His body shakes with laughter and he gasps for air between giggles, “Oh man, my _stomach_ . Dude...oh.. . _See_ \- I’m not always this awesome Sex God or whatever you think I am - I told you not to put me on a pedestal!”

“Yeah I can see that, now, Kenny. Jesus, you’re so _nasty_.” he gags again and laughs through the realisation that he’d definitely heard Kenny jack it last night. Maybe it humanises Kenny to an uncomfortable degree, maybe it’s the fact Cartman had caught him in such an intimate moment - whatever it is, it makes Cartman feel uneasy for some reason, and he forces himself to keep mocking Kenny, keep laughing, lest he overthink this. 

He simply can’t entertain the idea that Kenny might have moments of weakness just like he does. Cartman doesn’t care what he says - Kenny _belongs_ on a pedestal. Thinking of him as anything less leaves Eric himself feeling vulnerable - he _needs_ to think of Kenny as someone who can guide him through all this shit; someone who’s better than him, otherwise he’s left with this uncomfortable pit in his stomach. 

Cartman urges the conversation towards something that isn’t Kenny beating his meat and ignores his dry mouth and Kenny’s pink cheeks.

The rest of the day flies by. At some point Kenny invites Stan and Kyle round to chill after college, and the four of them play video games and talk about nothing in particular until the sun disappears - and everything goes relatively smoothly for once. Only a couple of times does Kyle call Cartman a fatass or bring up a topic that would usually rile Cartman up - and only a couple of times does he catch himself before taking the bait, simply waving him off with a “Whatever you say, Kyle.” instead. Both times he instinctively looks over at Kenny and catches a proud nod in his direction.

Once it’s dark, Cartman announces that he needs to get back to his dorm as he has college tomorrow. When Kenny urges him to stay, Cartman finds himself lying about not having a spare change of clothes with him for some reason. He figures he needs some time on his own - some time away from Kenny - after everything that’s happened over the past twenty four hours.

Though he’s mostly made peace with what happened the night prior, something still isn’t sitting right with him - a nagging feeling of uncertainty that he can’t quite put his finger on. As Kenny drives him home he decides that he still feels weird about Kenny calling him his best friend. That has to be it.. 

“You good, Cartman?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Kinda quiet over there.”

“Just tired, man.” He’s not lying.

“Hm.” Kenny doesn’t press any further.

After not too long they pull up to Cartman’s place. He grabs his bag from the floor and rests it on his lap for a moment.

“Uhh…” 

Kenny looks over and quirks an eyebrow.

Cartman takes a deep breath, “Thanks, Kenny.”

“No problem, dude. You don’t live far, it’s no-”

“No, not for taking me home. For...everything...I guess.”

“Oh - oh, that’s okay, dude. Always here for you.” Kenny pats him on the back and gives a toothy grin, “Go get some sleep, you look like shit.”

Eric laughs, “ _You_ look like shit.”

They part ways and Eric trudges back to his room. He doesn’t know whether it was smoking so much yesterday or something else, but he just can’t seem to get his thoughts in order. 

Once he’s inside, he throws himself on his bed - ready to beat one out and sink into blissful unconsciousness. He pulls up some porn - nothing spectacular - and gets to work. He finishes quickly, coming into a crumpled tissue within a couple of minutes, and finds himself completely drained in all senses of the word - ready to pass out pretty much immediately. 

It’s only as he’s drifting off that he realises with a sickening jolt that he’d automatically imagined Kenny’s voice pointing out how the chick’s tits bounced, how hot her moans were - essentially guiding him through beating his meat - and his eyes snap open.

“ _What the fuck._ ” he says into the stillness of his unlit room.


	8. Lust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Apologies for the wait - I'm back to being an ~essential~ worker, so I've barely had any free time on my hands this week. Since having some time to mull over the last chapter, I realised I really didn't like how I ended it - I think I was too caught up in pumping out chapters and it felt a bit lazy and not in-character. I've added a whole load of stuff onto Chapter 7 now (from when Cartman starts taking the piss out of Kenny for jacking it) so please read that before you move on to this one!  
> Anyway - this is a long one, so enjoy!

Over the next couple of days, Cartman crams in as much questioning as he possibly can during his and Kenny's truck-talks, preparing diligently for the upcoming party. They cover the female orgasm, finger-banging, and contraception among countless other topics. Cartman discovers that while Kenny’s a fan of raw-dogging at every possible opportunity, he’s still deathly cautious and incredibly passionate about teaching him the dangers of STDs for some reason. Oh and, sure, Eric pops a couple boners during their talks but they’re just laughed off - that’s old news now.

What isn’t old news is imagining Kenny’s voice every time he jacks it. But Cartman doesn’t have time to obsess over this now - he occupies his mind with sex tips and preparing himself for his big night. Every time it happens he tells himself that so what? He’s been spending a lot of time with Kenny lately - and he _is_ good with details, telling stories - so it’s only natural. Nothing to dwell on here. Nothing to be alarmed about.

When the day of reckoning arrives, Cartman spends half of it obsessively grooming himself - making sure his hair looks just right, using his most expensive cologne - and the other half mulling over whether he actually has the guts to go through with this. By the time Kenny messages him saying he’s outside, he’s actually breaking a sweat. Still, he powers through, and forces himself to walk to Kenny’s truck.

“Looking sharp, dude!” Kenny gives a toothy grin when he hops in. Unlike Cartman, he doesn’t seem to have put much effort into how he looks at all - hair messy, same old orange sweatshirt on. Truth is, he probably doesn’t need to - he’s got his reputation, and that’s all he needs for a good night. Cartman feels pretty dumb sitting next to him with his combed hair and smart sweatshirt.

Kenny starts the truck and they head to the party.

“Dude, I’m buzzing - I’m gonna get _wasted_ tonight.”

“You really gonna drink and drive, dumbass?”

“Oh, no. I don’t plan on going home tonight.” Of course he doesn’t. Cartman is reminded that it’s almost guaranteed that Kenny will get laid tonight - and on the off-chance he doesn’t, he’ll be partying well into the next day. Cartman feels a wave of nausea crash over him.

“I don't know if I can do this, Kenny.” He admits quietly.

“Dude, come _on_. Do you need a pep talk?”

“Ugh…” He rolls his eyes, before realising that Kenny is actually serious, “....Maybe, yeah.”

“Dude... _Dude_ . You’re gonna be _drowning_ in tits. Trust me on this, Cartman - I’ll be there if anything goes South - which it _won’t,_ by the way - or if you need a quick truck-talk before getting down and dirty. Whatever happens, I’m gonna be with you the whole way okay?”

Cartman does feel a little better being reminded that he’s not going to be completely on his own. “Yeah. Okay.”

Parties aren’t really Cartman’s thing anymore. Sure, he hangs out with Kenny, Stan, and Kyle - drinks and smokes with them from time to time - but he’s not been to a proper, _real,_ party like this one in a long time. He actually used to love them - used to love the loud pop music, the dressing up - but since becoming increasingly bitter about his virgin status, he’s lost all interest. It’s all anyone seems to go to parties for at his age - to fuck - which is something that he would have frowned upon a few weeks ago. But here he is, among all the other posers and fags, trying to grab his own one night stand. He’s already in way over his head as he enters the crappy college house - with music blaring out some cheap speakers, surrounded by drunk, clumsy assholes.

As soon as they arrive Cartman tells Kenny he just needs a minute to sit, to take it all in, and plants himself on the sofa. Kenny begrudgingly agrees and tells him he’s off to mingle for a bit, but he’ll be back to check on him soon enough. Cartman sits, tapping at his phone, for nearly an hour - wondering whether he should just slip out and back home before Kenny notices. He’s pretty much convinced himself that it would be way easier than putting himself through this whole ordeal, when he sees a vision in orange stumble through the crowd towards him.

“Come on dude, have a fffuckin’ drink already!” 

“Kenny, how the fuck are you wasted already?!”

“M’not wasted, _Mom_.” he slurs, and offers a plastic cup of a luminous red concoction “Look, made it extra sweet and colourful, dude - just how you like it!” 

“What’s in it?” He sulks.

“Uhhh, I don’t know, dude. I think I put vodka in there. Maybe some cherryade... I think that might be it, actually...just - vodka and cherryade…” He trails off, frowning like he’s disappointed in himself.

Eric takes the drink. With any luck it will give him some much needed confidence - or at the very least help pass the evening quicker. Kenny bounces down on the couch next to Eric, sloshing some of his own drink down the front of his shirt. He looks at the stain with a mild surprise, like someone else put it there, before shrugging and turning to Eric.. 

“Seen any hotties yet?”

“Nah…”

“Well, that’s a shame - a damn shame. Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me if I’ve seen any chicks, dude.” He bobs excitedly on the couch as he talks.

Cartman rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his drink and grimaces “ _fuck_ , Kenny, what the hell?” Kenny grins. “Goddammit - _fine_. Have you seen any chicks yet?”

“Yep”

“Cool.”

“You not gonna ask me who?”

“Kenny, stop being a dumbass and tell me already”

“Guess!”

“No.”

“Ugh fine, spoilsport - I just spoke to Heidi.”

Cartman’s heart jumps right into his throat, and he splutters “ _Fuck.”_

_“I know, right!”_

He tries to keep his voice as low as he can over the wall-shaking beat, “Like - Heidi. _The_ Heidi?”

“You bet!”

Kenny gives a thrilled grin and Cartman sits in a stunned silence for a few moments, eventually taking a couple of cautious sips of his potent drink.

“So..” Kenny finally says, “Are you gonna go for it?”

“What?”

“Heidi - you gonna tap that ass?”

“Screw you, Kenny.”

“I’m serious, you should go for it, dude.”

“And _I’m_ seriously. I’m not gonna fuckin’ humiliate myself, Kenny, I can’t do this. Why did I let you talk me into this shit, _fuck._ ”

“Dude, you’re not gonna humiliate yourself! Lemme talk to her.”

“No, no, no, Kenny you can’t - you can't do that. Jesus Christ, I think I’m gonna spew.”

“Sounds like a you kinda problem.” Kenny steadies himself on Eric’s shoulder as he stands, “I’m gonna go find Heidi. Gonna work my magic for you, dude.”

“Kenny, no!” He yanks at Kenny’s sleeve. 

“Cartman.” he says softly and squats down to Eric’s height “Oh - shit” and holds onto his knee as he nearly falls onto his ass. “I’m gonna go find Heidi again. I’m gonna fffuckin’ - go find her and convince her to smooch your handsome little face.”

“I-”

“No. Shh.” He presses a finger against Eric’s lips, “I got this. You got this. Don’t trip, okay?”

“...okay” he hears himself say. Huh, his cup is empty.

Kenny pats him on the knee twice and then pushes himself to his feet. He gives Eric a salute and disappears - shimmying his way into the crowd of dancing bodies like a man on a mission. Eric sits, brain feeling numb and not entirely sure how to process anything for a couple of minutes. He eventually figures making his way to the drinks table and re-filling his cup with something strong is the best option he’s got.

It takes as much time for Eric to down two more drinks and fill up with a third for him to see a somehow even more intoxicated Kenny push his way through the bouncing crowd with a giggling, red-faced Heidi - _the_ Heidi - in tow, hands interlocked. “Cartman!” He shouts above the music.

“ _Kenny_...” Shit, it feels like all the alcohol has gone to his head at the same time.

“I found her!” 

“I can see that, asshole!” Shit, shit, _shit_.

“Dude, I have the best fuckin’ news!” Jesus, he’s nowhere near ready to hear it.

“She said she’d make out with you!”

“ _What_ ” Cartman’s eyes flit to Heidi, who nods and pushes her alcohol-blushed face into Kenny’s side, giggling.

“I-” Cartman starts but he can’t find the words. 

“We’re gonna go find a room upstairs,” Kenny shouts, unhooking his fingers from Heidi’s and putting an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her to his side. “I told her she can fuck me as long as she makes out with you first!”

“Um, sure I - thank you Kenny, and uh - Heidi.” 

“Hey, you’re welcome dude!” He seems genuinely appreciative of Eric’s thanks, “Come on!” he grabs both of their hands, pulling them up the house’s stairs - Heidi giggling the whole way.

They find an empty room and as soon as the door is closed and locked, Heidi launches herself at Kenny, pressing their lips together, lapping drunkenly at his mouth with her arms thrown around his neck. Kenny holds her waist and kisses her back with more control, but matching desperation. Eric just stares at them, frozen. He feels like he’s witnessing something very important - Kenny at work. He’d only ever heard stories, or perhaps more suitably _legends_ , about moments like this, and he feels completely overwhelmed with being allowed in the audience. 

Heidi has backed Kenny up against a wardrobe at this point, and Eric can see exactly what Kenny meant about making out being like fucking each others mouths - there’s no other way this can be described. Kenny cradles one side of Heidi’s face and Eric can see his tongue delving into her mouth - lazily, heavily. Eric doesn’t have to wonder for too long what that must feel like as he soon hears Heidi give a small, surrendering moan into Kenny’s mouth.

He’s thankful for the alcohol in his system, otherwise he’d probably be really fucking embarrassed about his boner right now. It’s not something he’d ever expected to think but, _fuck_ , they look so incredibly hot together - Eric swallows thickly and exhales a heavy breath. It’s enough to catch Kenny’s attention.

“Oh _shit_ , fuck.” Eric has never heard his voice sound so _hoarse_ before. He pushes Heidi away a little “Heidi - shit, we forgot about Cartman” he whisper-hisses to her.

“Hey, no it's - it’s fine Kenny” He hears himself slur.

“Nn-no dude, I promised you a kiss.” He guides Heidi towards Eric, “So you’re gettin’ a fuckin’ kiss” He puts a hand on both of the smalls of their backs - pushing them together like he’s playing with barbies or some shit. “Alright, Heidi - my boy Cartman here hasn’t got too much experience, so be gentle with him, okay?” Through his drunken haze Eric is thankful that Kenny is thoughtful enough to not explicitly tell Heidi that this is his first kiss. 

Heidi smiles kindly “He’s kinda handsome, Ken.” She touches his cheek delicately and bites her lip. Christ, she really is nice.

Eric feels dumbfounded, and when he meets Kenny’s gaze briefly, it all suddenly seems a little too real. He’s about to have his first kiss - with _the_ Heidi - all thanks to Kenny. He feels like he’s about to step on stage, like he needs to do this well - like he needs to make Kenny _proud_. He realises his breathing has accelerated and he’s just staring dumbly at Heidi’s lips - pink and damp from recently making out with his best friend. 

“It’s okay dude.” Kenny rubs comforting circles into Eric’s back and he suddenly feels very small, “I’ll help, it’ll be just like our truck talks.” 

“Truck talks?” Heidi smiles.

“Boy talk, Heidi, you wouldn’t get it” but he says it with a smile and Heidi gives a melodic laugh in response. “Alright, Cartman, just go for it. I believe in you, dude.”

He takes a deep breath. He can hear muffled music from downstairs, can feel the bass shaking the floor slightly and feels like he’s vibrating along with it. He lets the breath go, feeling lightheaded with it and leans in, scrunching his eyes closed. The feeling of Heidi’s lips against his almost makes him jump. 

He stays like that, with their lips sandwiched together for a couple of moments before pulling away. His breaths are ragged as he realises that fuck, he’s just had his _first kiss_. He starts to rasp out something between a thank you and an apology when Heidi rolls her eyes and smiles, holding the sides of his wide face, pulling him forwards, and planting her lips on his again. 

Eric’s heart jumps in his chest - at first he’s too startled to even close his eyes, but then Heidi’s lips start moving against his, slow and wet, and his eyelids flutter shut. Heidi takes his hands and places them on her hips - _christ_ , just being able to touch someone else like this feels amazing, so amazing it makes his cock jump. She swings her arms around his neck and deepens her kiss.

He finally starts to move his lips against hers, once again thankful of the alcohol in his system for giving him a sloppy boost of bravery. 

“Thaaat's it, good work, bud” Fuck, he’d almost - _almost_ \- forgotten that Kenny is here, with them, for a moment. “Alright, that’s it, slide your lips - yeah just like that” Kenny’s voice is low and husky, and it would scare Eric how much comfort it brings him, how he would never be able to do this without Kenny, if he wasn’t so wasted.

He grips Heidi’s hips a little tighter - fuck, this is hot - and finally leans into the kiss a little, moving his head to one side as his lips slip over Heidi’s. 

“Try it with your tongue, dude, it feels awesome. Just - relax, open your mouth, and stroke her tongue with yours. Take it slowly, do what feels good.” Cartman follows the instructions like it’s second nature. He’s a bit too hasty at first - his tongue clashing out of rhythm with Heidi’s, but he understands soon enough what movements he’s meant to be making, what feels right, and he nearly fucking comes in his pants right then and there when he feels Heidi moan into his mouth. He swears he hears Kenny groan softly but the room is spinning and he can’t quite tell which way is up, so he really doesn’t trust his ears right now. 

“Yeah, _shit_ \- Cartman you’re killing it, dude, she loves it.” He distantly acknowledges Kenny’s hand sliding to a new position on his back, and is startled when Heidi gives another high, filthy gasp into his mouth. “Fuck, she’s _really_ loving it.” Cartman’s eyes blink open and he breaks away from Heidi for a moment to gauge the situation. Kenny has moved behind Heidi - one hand still at Cartman’s back and the other... _oh_. “Shit, you really this wet for him, Heidi?”

Heidi nods furiously, a pained expression across her face as she grips on to Cartman and pants noisily into his gaping mouth.

Her hips buck under Cartman’s hands and his mind all but combusts. Fuck, this is definitely the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Better than any porn he’s ever watched, better than any fantasy he’s ever had - somehow even better than any story Kenny has ever told him.

Just when he thinks things can’t possibly get any hotter Heidi gasps out “ _Haah -_ bed. Bed now.” and yanks them both by their sleeves towards it. She slides down on the mattress and pulls Kenny with her, their tongues lapping languidly against each other once again. With a smile, Heidi pats the space next to her, encouraging the gawping, swaying Cartman to take a seat. He dumbly bounces down next to her, hands in his lap, watching as Kenny kisses her neck, his lanky body grinding ever-so-slightly against her legs. He slides a single hand up her stomach and slowly starts peeling each button of her blouse apart, revealing a delicate bra.

Heidi pushes Kenny to one side and swiftly sits up to shed her blouse. She unclasps the hooks of her bra and turns to Cartman, “Would you like to help me out, Eric?” Holy _shit_ . He wants to say yes. Fuck yes - _of course_ he wants to goddamn help - but cant find his voice. He instead nods, and with clumsy fingers peels the straps from both shoulders down, down her arms. 

He sits, stunned - bra still in his hands - as he stares at her tits. Though Kenny had hyped them up to the high heavens, he couldn’t have prepared himself. Ever. He hears two sets of laughter. 

“ _Dude,_ Cartman. Stop staring and dive in, my man.” Cartman's eyes dart from Kenny to Heidi, to her magnificent tits, before he slowly reaches out until his finger-tips brush the surface of her breast.

He ever-so-gently thumbs at her beautifully pink nipple and is delighted when he hears a squeak of pleasure in return. He snaps out of his daze and looks at Kenny. Kenny beams back at him before hastily shoving his hand back down the front of Heidi’s pants. She rolls her hips up towards him and gives another wanton moan, grasping at the hand at her breast and squeezing his fingers under hers. Eric wouldn’t have been able to stop the groan that escapes his throat even if he knew it was coming.

“So hot baby,” Kenny says under his breath, nestling into Heidi’s neck, “so fuckin’ hot” he kisses the words into her skin, nipping and biting gently as she squeals. Cartman feels distantly uneasy at being witness to the way Kenny talks to Heidi, but he doesn’t have to try too hard to focus on something else with his hand gripped tightly to her breast. He squeezes a little tighter, fascinated by how _soft_ it is. For some reason he thought they’d be firmer, less squishy, more -

“Fuck, you gonna come, baby?” Kenny’s low voice cuts through his boob-induced hypnosis. Heidi’s grip on his hand tightens and she starts crying out in earnest, “Fuck! Yes! Ken - ah!”

“So good, you’re _so good_ , baby. That’s it.” Kenny coos, encouraging Heidi through her orgasm. Eric stares wide-eyed as Heidi bucks into Kenny’s hand, thighs shaking as she gives one last broken gasp that catches in her throat. She stills mid-buck, mouth gaping, hand gripping Eric’s to the point of pain, and then slackens. 

Kenny doesn’t give her a moment to recover before ripping her pants open and yanking them down. She pants, smiles dreamily, and lifts her hips slightly to aid Kenny in the removal of her pants and underwear. 

“Wow.” Eric breathes.

“Like what you see?” Kenny grins, and Heidi scrubs at her face in embarrassment. 

“Ken, stop.” She smiles. 

“What? You’ve got a _beautiful_ pussy.” He catches her in another open-mouthed kiss, “So pretty. You should show Cartman.”

She laughs lightly before sitting upright - peeling Eric’s hand from her breast, but keeping it intertwined with hers. His soul all but leaves his body when she turns slightly and spreads her legs - the post-orgasm blush on her cheeks growing deeper.

“Wow.” Eric repeats, dumbly. He never dreamed he’d be able to see one of _these_ in real life. She dips her fingers between her folds and spreads herself for him and he can see, even in the darkened room, how absolutely soaked she is.

“You wanna touch me?” She asks in a small voice.

“Uhh-” Cartman’s head spins. How the fuck had he gotten into this situation. Half an hour ago he hadn’t even had his first kiss, had never even touched a girl and now... As he struggles to find his words, Kenny takes her hand from between her thighs and brings her fingers to his lips. He runs his tongue along the length of her fingers before taking them in his mouth, making a small “mm” sound as he does so. Cartman stares as his cheeks hollow around her, “I think I just wanna watch for now.” he finally blurts out. Fuck, he’s drunk.

Heidi de-tangles her other hand from his and brings it up to his face. She strokes his cheek lightly, “You’re so sweet.” She smiles.

“Fuck, so are you.” Kenny pipes up as he pops her fingers from his mouth. “Lemme taste you for real.”

He pulls her head towards another slow, open-mouthed kiss before sliding to his knees on the floor in front of her. Cartman distantly notices the bulge in the front of his jeans and wonders if it’s driving Kenny as crazy as his own is driving him. He adjusts himself and Heidi notices - dropping her hand to his crotch and rubbing gently. 

“Fuck” he breathes, never having experienced a hand other than his own on his junk, “Holy _shit_ , Heidi.” Even under the thick layer of his pants and underwear, it feels _heavenly_.

His gaze is drawn towards Kenny, who hoists Heidi’s legs over his shoulders - now completely buried between her thighs. He looks hungry, eager - and well and truly _at home_.

Kenny’s eyes meet Cartman’s, down at his lap, and back up. He grins, “Sweet, dude.”

Cartman can only give a breath of a laugh in response - dangerously close to blowing a load in his pants.

Kenny turns back to the task at hand and proceeds to follow his own advice to a T - kissing and nipping at Heidi before slowly licking a long stripe up her slit. She moans and thrusts against Kenny’s mouth, burying his face in her neatly-trimmed strip of mousy-brown pubes. Cartman stares - taking in the way Kenny laps and sucks, the way his tongue darts around expertly in a way that makes Heidi quiver and squeak.

Before he realises what he’s doing, he's reaching a hand around Heidi’s thigh and spreading her wider for Kenny. Kenny’s eyes dart up for a split second and Eric doesn’t have to see his mouth to know he’s smiling. He moves one hand to rest lightly on Cartman’s leg. Eric’s grip tightens on Heidi’s thigh and he grunts lowly, bucking his hips towards her fingers. 

It doesn’t take long for Heidi to start gasping frantically again. Eric reaches up to support her back as she squirms, and watches as Kenny latches onto her, determined to see her orgasm through. He feels both Kenny’s and Heidi’s grips tighten on him

Heidi comes harder than before - this time she’s almost weeping, her body shaking violently from having come once already. Cartman watches her face screw up in pure, overwhelmed bliss and feels his own cheeks flood with heat. As she starts to calm, aftershocks still wracking her body, thighs still shaking around Kenny’s face, Kenny groans and Cartman realises with a start that he’s removed a hand from Heidi’s thigh and - from the what he can make out in the darkness - is jacking himself off right there on the floor. His eyes are zoned in on Heidi’s face - intensely watching her just as Eric was.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes snap to Cartman and for just a moment the expression he was looking at Heidi with is yet to be wiped from his face. For a second, he’s looking at Cartman with half-lidded eyes, a furrowed brow. For a single second he’s pumping his cock, squeezing Eric’s thigh, and looking lustfully up at Cartman from beneath him. It quickly changes to a “Hell yeah, dude.” kind of grin, but it’s too late. 

For a single second there, Kenny was on his knees, a blush across his freckled cheeks for _Cartman._ Cartman gulps thickly, suddenly feeling nauseated.

“You two should make out.” Heidi’s sitting up, looking dreamily between them, “That would be so hot.” Eric’s dick jumps under her hand. Kenny gawps up at her - his hand freezing around his dick.

“Uhh - I don’t think Cartman’s into that, Heidi.” he laughs nervously.

Cartman stares at him “I-” He starts brokenly, eyes darting from Kenny’s ruffled, sandy hair to his gap-toothed grin, and the way Heidi’s wetness makes his lips glint in the dark.

“I have to go.” He stands, suddenly unable to leave the room fast enough. He hears Kenny protest from behind him, but he’s already hurrying away - slamming the door behind him, speeding down the stairs, and out the house into the cold, night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh...  
> (Just to let you all know - I probably won't be posting as regularly as before now that I'm back at work. We're probably looking at once or twice a week now - I hope that's okay with everyone!)


	9. Nausea

He staggers through the front yard and just -  _ walks _ . He walks as fast as he can away from that house, away from the too-loud music and away from the crowded bodies and alcohol and Heidi and -  _ ugh _ . He doesn’t think, he doesn’t check his phone - he just marches forward until his lungs burn and his mouth is tacky.

Eventually, he comes to a stop, swaying where he stands for a second before bringing up a torrent of vomit all over the sidewalk and his best shoes. He coughs and splutters, sinking onto all fours. When he’s finally finished emptying his guts he sits back on his heels and blinks at the neon-red puddle before him. His phone pings and he pulls it from his pocket. He finds a number of messages waiting for him.

_ ‘Dude, are you okay?’ _

_ ‘Come back Cartman’ _

_ ‘Fuck’ _

_ ‘Just let me know you’re okay, dude’ _

_ ‘Please _ ’

He taps away from the messages and brings up a map - clumsily typing in his home address and finding it’s still about a twenty minute walk away. He stuffs his phone back in his pocket before pushing himself up from his disgusting mess and setting off, stalking towards his destination. As he walks, completely unwelcome images of Kenny on his knees flash through his mind and he feels his empty stomach turn, hissing “ _ Stop _ ” out-loud to himself a couple of times in hopes of taming his thoughts like a misbehaving dog or some shit. 

When he finally makes it back he feels uncomfortably sobered by the cold air and exercise, and so snatches a half-full bottle of vodka he has stashed away in his desk drawer. He takes as many gulps as he can handle, and then a couple more - mouth watering, nose burning - before slumping down on the edge of his bed.

He sits, head hanging, and a hand around the neck of the vodka bottle for what could be five minutes or half an hour. Time starts to not make so much sense.

He drinks some more. “ _ Fuck _ ” He buries his face in his hands. What the fuck is  _ wrong _ with him. His phone rings but he ignores it, scrubbing at his face until it stops. A message tone chimes shortly after.

_ “At least let me know you’re alive, Cartman.” _

He shoves it back into his pocket. Another unknown amount of time passes. At some point he puts on some shitty pop music and spins around his room aimlessly. At another, he finds himself sobbing into his pillow. There’s a chance he could have messaged Kenny back at some point but who can be sure. Huh, what’s all this broken glass?

As the sun starts to rise he shoves a hand down his pants.  _ Heidi, bouncing tits, girly moans, freckles, sandy hair, a chipped-tooth grin. _

Cartman’s eyes blink open slowly against the offending sunlight that streams obnoxiously into his room. His mouth tastes like shit and he’s covered in some kind of -

“Awh, crap.” His pants are down, his dick’s out and he’s covered in dried-up cum. He groans and pulls himself out of bed. Huh, he doesn’t actually feel too hungover. As he stumbles to the bathroom, he realises that this  _ might _ be because he’s still kinda drunk. He pisses, wipes the cum from his hands and stomach, and drags himself back to his room before removing his stupid fancy sweatshirt and pants - load of good they were - and pulls on some comfy sweatpants and loose-fitting shirt.

It's only then that a wave of hot, disgusting nausea rolls over him. Okay,  _ now _ he’s hungover.

He groans out loud and crawls back into bed, doubled over with the sudden overwhelming feeling. It’s only worsened when he spies a large mark on his wall and a smashed bottle of vodka underneath it. He vaguely remembers getting really pissed off at some point last night - he must have thrown it in his drunken state.

Oh _ shit.  _ He snatches his phone from his pant pockets.

_ ‘Fuck yuo, Keny’ _

_ ‘Fuckk you’ _

_ ‘Asshole btich asswipr fucking dujmbass fuck YOU’ _

There was no answer to any of his messages. Crap. He grits through the urge to vomit his stomach inside out and types out another.

_ ‘Shit. I’m sorry, dude.’ _

He can’t think of anything else to say and so just locks the screen and sighs. What a fuckin’  _ mess _ . Maybe he can sleep this whole thing off. Maybe it’s just a really fucked up nightmare. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore his lurching stomach. He stays like that for all of ten minutes before there’s a pounding at his door.

“Uuugh” he pulls himself out of bed again and traipses towards the loud knocking “Jesus Christ I’m fuckin’ coming already calm your tits” he mumbles and opens the door.

“Hey, asswipe.” Kenny breezes past Cartman and bounces down on his bed.

“Go away.” He grumbles back, but he shuts the door and makes his way back to his bed - sliding back under the duvet and kicking at Kenny to make room for himself.

“Well, you sure look the picture of health.”

“Mmmr” Cartman grumbles into his pillow. Maybe if he can’t see Kenny, he can pretend he’s not actually here.

“Shit, Cartman, what happened last night?” Kenny sounds concerned, and Cartman lifts his head to see Kenny staring pointedly at the smashed vodka bottle. He plops his head back down on his pillow, either not bothered, too ashamed, or too overwhelmed by pure, sweaty nausea, to reply. He feels Kenny poke at his ribs.

“Hey, wake up, fatass, I bare gifts.”

“If you don’t stop fuckin’ poking me I’m gonna throw up everywhere.”

“That’s why you need me, dude.” He hears rustling “I’m the king of hangover cures”

Cartman fake-retches and reluctantly pushes himself up to a sitting position. An ice-cold Gatorade is shoved in his hands. “Drink this first.” He puts an assortment of pill bottles and packets next to his duvet-covered legs “Then take these.”

“Ughh, what are they?”

“ _ These _ are painkillers” He picks up a sachet and shakes them in front of Cartman’s nose, “and  _ these _ are vitamins. I know you’ve probably never heard of those in your life, but trust me dude, you’ll feel better for them.”

Cartman doesn’t have the strength to sass back, and starts working his way through the Gatorade and numerous pills. He distantly thinks about how Kenny could be giving him cyanide or some shit and he’d be none the wiser - just following instructions and eagerly poisoning himself. He swallows another. Kenny puts another bottle of Gatorade on his bedside table, alongside two packs of instant noodles.

“Let me know when you think you can stomach some food. These things are life-savers.” He pats the noodles.

Cartman has to admit that the cold blue drink has already helped take the edge off things. That’s not to say he doesn’t still feel fucking awful, though. He lays back down and shuts his eyes.

“Hey, Cartman, dude - I’m sorry about last night.”

“Eh, whatever.” Ahh, crap. He’s been dreading this. He hasn’t even had time to come up with an excuse.

“No it’s not whatever. I know you’re upset. I didn’t know Heidi was gonna pull that shit. I’m sorry, dude.”

Cartman keeps his eyes closed and thinks on what Kenny just said. Yeah... _ Heidi. _ Stupid fuckin’ Heidi. Why the fuck would she say something like that…ruining everything. Could’ve been a good night if it wasn’t for her being so fucked up. 

“She’s a bitch.” It’s decided.

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far but it probably wasn’t cool of her to spring that on you.”

“She’s a bitch,” Cartman grumbles, turning away from Kenny “and she ruined my night.” Yeah, it’s not Cartman’s fault. He was drunk. And she said some shit that grossed him out and pissed him off and that’s why he ran away from the party.  _ Yeah _ . “Can’t believe I nearly touched her vag. I don’t dig chicks who enjoy saying fucked up shit like that. No way was I gonna keep getting jacked off by a goddamn psychopath.”

“I mean...she didn’t actually jack you off, dude.”

“I _ know _ ! She didn’t even give me a chance to get off before ruining everything. Fuckin’  _ weak _ .”

He hears Kenny sigh besides him. “Don’t worry, Cartman, we’ll get you another chick in no time. You were killing it last night. I’m proud of you, dude.”

Cartman grunts in reply. He doesn’t have the energy for this conversation, already feeling himself start to drift off again. As he goes, he feels Kenny gently patting his leg. 

He wakes up a few hours later, the sun starting to get low outside and the smell of weed invading his nostrils. He rolls over to find Kenny still in his room, gazing out the open window, smoking. Cartman watches him fill his lungs, hold his breath and release a lazy stream of smoke. The sun catches his hair just right, making it look like it’s glowing in the low light - it would remind Cartman of a halo if that wasn’t such a faggy thing to think. He scratches at his face and then studies his nails before taking another lungful of smoke. Cartman isn’t sure why he doesn’t make himself known immediately, but when he does, he’s kind of disappointed to break the moment for some reason.

“Did you forget the way home, dumbass?”

Kenny ignores him, “Ah, sleeping beauty awakens! Wake and bake?” He offers Cartman the joint, “Helps get your appetite back if you’re still feeling gross.”

Cartman stretches before crossing the room. He grabs the joint.

They sit in a peaceful silence for a while, taking turns to smoke as the room turns a beautiful amber. Eric vaguely remembers someone calling it golden hour one time. When he hands the joint back, he finds himself studying Kenny’s hand as he brings it up to his mouth and back down. It’s skinny like the rest of him. And well-worn. His fingernails are bitten down to stubs, a light pink mottles over its surface from years of scarring and wear and tear. He notices a fresh little scratch just over his knuckles, a tiny splinter of red.

“You look deep in thought.” Kenny’s voice startles him and he feels his cheeks heat.

“Hungry.” He murmurs.

“Ah, sweet! Told you it would work! Here, dude - you finish this and I’ll make some noods.”

He hands Cartman the last of the joint before heading out his door to the shared kitchen. He hears pots and pans clanging and the rustle of noodle packets and realises just how much better he feels already. Of course Kenny knows his shit when it comes to drinking. He should have expected it.

He takes a drag and stares out the window. The sun is dipping on the horizon and the room is starting to darken but...it’s kind of nice, somehow peaceful after last night's shitshow. Thinking back on it all now, he feels pretty embarrassed about just how badly he handled everything, cringing at the vague memory of his outburst; the way he stormed home and cried into his pillow like a little bitch.

He realises now that he was just drunk, and drunk people do dumb shit and over-react to stuff all the time. He’s relieved to not have to over-think any of this anymore. It was just a freak incident, something embarrassing he’ll eventually get over and breeze past. It could just be the weed but he feels a lot better now. A lot less confused and angry about it all. No reason to be stressed out here, just Heidi being a freak. Kenny returns with the noodles.

“Bon appetit.”

“Thanks.” Shit, these look awesome, actually. He stubs the roach on the window sill before making his way back to his bed with his bowl of soupy goodness. He notices that Kenny has made his own, and is thankful that he doesn’t have to share this time around. He’s starving. Kenny sits crossed-legged besides him. 

“I cleaned up that bottle,” he says, pausing to blow on a spoonful of broth, “You’re a dumbass, you know that, right?”

Eric looks towards where the shards of glass had littered the carpet a couple of hours ago and frowns. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” He slurps at his noodles, “Why were you so mad anyway? I know Heidi was kind of gross, but damn, dude. You really flipped, huh?”

Cartman shrugs, “I dunno. Just...really drunk I guess.”

“Yeah, no shit...Heidi was worried about you too.” He pauses, “She digs you, y’know.”

“Yeah, well - she shouldn’t have been such a bitch.” The two fall quiet for a couple of minutes, and Cartman feels faintly bitter about leaving Kenny and Heidi alone together.

“So did you fuck her?” He asks after a while.

Kenny gives a small smile and shakes his head “Nah. I was too worried about you, dude. She asked if we could meet up again some time and I said I’d talk to you but - I’m pretty sure that’s off the cards now, right?”

“Right.” Fucking  _ definitely _ . No chance he’s making that mistake again.

“Anyway, I helped her get dressed and then went out looking for you but, damn dude, you really know how to run when the time's right, huh?”

Cartman shrugs and concentrates on shovelling another spoonful of noodles into his mouth.

“When I got your ‘fuck you’ messages I was kinda relieved, actually. Y’know - knowing that you weren’t dead or kidnapped or some shit. That was real dumb of you, Cartman.”

“Yeah…” He feels pretty bad about being such an asshole to Kenny.

“So what were they all about anyway? You seemed real pissed at me, dude.”

Crap. Cartman sets down his empty bowl and throws his hands in the air “I don’t know! I said I was drunk, Kenny, I don’t fuckin’ remember what I did for like half of last night. All I know is that Heidi’s a bitch and I’m never drinking ever again.”

“Fair.” Kenny shrugs, “Just don’t storm off like that again, dude. I was worried.”

“Alright, _ Mom. _ ” 

“I’m serious! That was a real dick-move Cartman!”

Cartman sighs, “Yeah... I know. Sorry.”

Kenny sets his own bowl down and frowns, “Ahh, It’s fine dude. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you into shit,” Ugh, here he goes being honest again, “I don’t ever wanna make you mad at me, Cartman.”

“I’m not mad at you, dumbass.”

Kenny sighs, “You sure?”

“Yes,  _ goddamn _ . I was a drunk asshole last night let's just - forget all about it, okay?”

“...Okay.” Kenny nods, but he still looks distantly guilty. “Hey - you got any good games?”

Over the next couple of hours, Cartman watches Kenny play some open-world game and feels himself start to grow tired again. Who knew being hungover and doing absolutely nothing could be so _exhausting_? He tucks himself back under his duvet, Kenny sitting by his feet, and listens to the click-clack of the controller, feeling somewhat comforted by the sound.

He’s glad things aren’t awkward between them - that the whole thing can just be forgotten and moved on from. It’s embarrassing to remember himself acting like this was the end of the damn world last night... like this whole thing wasn’t all Heidi’s fault.

He sighs contentedly, scooting one leg a little closer towards where Kenny’s weight makes the bed dip slightly. Yeah, he’s glad things are back to normal now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all for waiting - this week has been a real busy one with work. I think we're on the home stretch now - this past week I've finally worked out exactly how we're gonna get from this point to the end of this story and I'm really excited to write it all! Expect another chapter in the next couple of days :) Hope you're all keeping well <3


	10. Frustration

It takes Cartman a moment or two after waking to notice a weight on his lower legs - it startles him from grogginess and he bolts upright to find - oh. It’s just Kenny. His own legs are curled towards his stomach in a fetal position and he has one arm draped over Eric’s calves, a controller just out of reach. He must have fallen asleep mid-game, the dumbass.

Eric allows himself to stare for a few moments, realising that he’s never actually seen Kenny asleep before. His eyes dart across Kenny’s slackened face, finding it kind of... _ weird _ witnessing it whilst it’s not animated with an easy confidence, without his signature cocky smirk or a toothy grin. Kenny breathes heavily, something just shy of snoring, drool pooling from his open mouth and nuzzled into the side of Cartman’s leg. He looks younger somehow. He looks vulnerable. Cartman feels uncomfortable.

He wriggles his legs out from underneath Kenny’s arm, and realises with a start that his room is a little too bright, and that he’s woken up as a result of the sunlight streaming through his windows and not an alarm ringing from his phone. He snatches it from his bedside table finding that - sure enough - he was meant to be at college half an hour ago. Shit. He pushes at Kenny’s shoulder, “Hey! Wake up, dumbass!  _ Kenny! _ ” Kenny stirs.

“Huh?” He slurs, lifting his head with a frown and barely-open eyes. He pushes a knuckle over the corner of his mouth, looking confused as to where the drool came from. 

“Wake up, asshole - we’re late for college.”

Kenny throws his face back into the duvet and stretches his back, wringing a long groan from his throat. Cartman ignores the weird pull in his gut and shakes him again, harder this time.

“I said wake the fuck up!” He starts poking at Kenny’s ribs, “Kenny!”

Kenny groans again before finally hauling himself into an upright position. His hair sticks out in all directions and there’s a large pink mark across his cheek where he’s been leaning. “Jesus, Cartman. Chill out, it’s just one lecture.”

“Yeah, that’s cool and whatever, but I’ve got three more straight after. I’m not about to miss them because you can't be bothered to get your lazy ass out of my bed. So get yourself moving, Kenny. Come on.”

Kenny scrubs at his face, “Fine, you got coffee?”

“Jesus, I’m not your goddamn maid.” But Eric gets up and makes his way to the kitchen regardless. He returns with two coffees and two bowls of sugary cereal balanced on a tray, finding Kenny slouched next to his window, smoking a cigarette. He hums happily as Eric hands him his morning brew.

“Mmm - oh wow, Cartman, breakfast as well? You must love me  _ sooo _ much.”

“Screw you. Who said you could stay round anyway?” Eric asks as he shoves a spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“You, when you exhausted me with all your dumb-assery and then stopped being conscious enough to stop me.”

Cartman rolls his eyes and takes another spoonful - he’s not about to admit that he’s enjoying not having to spend another morning on his own for once. The two eventually finish their breakfasts and start to get ready - at least Cartman does. Kenny insists he’ll be fine without showering.

“At least borrow a shirt, Kenny, you smell like shit.” It’s true, he’s still wearing the same set of clothes that he wore to the party. 

“Dude, there’s no way your clothes are gonna fit me.”

“I literally don’t give a single crap. Here,” He throws a T-shirt at Kenny, “There’s no way I’m sitting in your truck with you smelling like ass.”

Kenny rolls his eyes and sheds his sweatshirt and his own shirt. Cartman catches a flash of ribs and quickly averts his gaze. Of course Kenny doesn’t have the fuckin’ decency to do this in private. What an asshole.

Once the two are ready, Kenny sufficiently swamped in Cartman’s shirt, they make their way to Kenny’s truck and trundle away. 

“So, I was wondering,” Kenny begins, absent-mindedly succumbing to his habit of tapping on his steering wheel, “besides Heidi, did you have eyes for any other chicks?”

Cartman sighs, “Nah, not really.”

Kenny frowns, “Oh. Well that sucks.” More drumming, “You did get to touch her tits though.” He grins.

“Yeah.” Cartman grins back, “She did have pretty awesome boobs for a psycho bitch.”

“Told you, dude! You’re a lucky guy, Cartman.”

Cartman smiles to himself. Now that he’s over all that weird shit, now that he’s not getting over a monster hangover, he can now think about what happened with a clear mind - and yeah, despite the fucked-up ending, that night was without doubt the hottest thing he’d been a part of in his whole life.

The boys talk about Heidi the whole way to college. Cartman is once again thankful that the two can talk like this, that the events of Saturday haven't changed anything between them. It’s not even awkward when Cartman pops another boner. Kenny just laughs his head off and makes a comment about Cartman having just received a hefty cheque for the spank bank so he’s not surprised, and Eric even laughs with him.

Throughout his lectures, Cartman daydreams about the events of Saturday, about how soft Heidi’s nipples were and about how she spread her legs for him. Oh, and the _ sounds _ she made. Fuck, that was hot. Too bad she was fuckin’ crazy. But oh well, even if he never gets with a girl ever again, he has enough fuel for his jacking off sessions to last him a lifetime. He leaves his last lecture with his books positioned strategically in front of his crotch.

In the truck on the way home, Stan notices something.

“What’s with the shirt Kenny?”

“Oh, Cartman lent me it.”

“Gross,  _ why _ ?” Kyle asks.

“Because he’s a piece of shit who invites himself round other people's houses in his dirty-ass clothes.” Cartman quips, raising an eyebrow at Kenny. Kenny takes a hand from the steering wheel to poke at his ribs.

“Yeah a  _ real _ piece of shit who nursed you back to health yesterday.” He grins as he jabs at Cartman.

“Aw, you guys had a sleepover together? Without us?” Stan teases. Kenny quickly snaps his hand back to the steering wheel. Cartman swears he sees a flash of - anger? Sadness? Something - flicker across his features.

“Shut the fuck up  _ Stan _ .” Cartman turns in his seat to sneer in his face, “ _ Hippy asshole. _ ” He turns back around, hearing Kyle and Stan giggle behind him. Fags. The front of the truck is distinctly quiet for the first part of their journey. Once Stan and Kyle have left, Kenny clears his throat and turns to Cartman,

“So, uh...you thought much about Heidi today?”

“Well,  _ duh _ . What else was I gonna think about? Probably all I’m gonna be able to think about for the rest of _ forever _ .”

Kenny gives a small laugh, “Oh, good. I mean - uh, good for you, man. You did awesome on Saturday and - I’m glad you seem so chill about things now, Cartman.”

“Yeah, well. No point losing sleep over bitches, right?” He looks up at Kenny, almost like he’s seeking recognition of just how totally over everything he is now.

“Sure, Cartman.” He rolls his eyes, “Just be careful, dude. Don’t go breaking any hearts.” He smiles back at Cartman. Cartman snorts.

The two banter back and forth, Kenny teasing Eric about how much of a lady killer he’s going to become, and Eric telling him over and over to lay off, fighting a smile of his own.

Once Cartman is dropped off he trudges through to his room, tossing his backpack on the floor as soon as he's inside. He prepares and eats a couple of crappy microwave ready-meals, watches some crappy videos, and plays a crappy game before slumping onto the edge of his bed with an exhausted sigh.

It really wouldn’t surprise him if the last couple of days have taken a few years off his life. But at least it’s all back to normal now, at least him and Kenny are cool. He feels much more grounded after this whole whirlwind of a weekend but, hey, why stop there? There’s nothing more grounding than a good jerking off session. 

He pulls up some porn - nothing special, this shouldn’t take long - puts in some earphones, and unzips his pants for the umpteenth time in his life. He starts stroking himself to hardness slowly, chin tucked into his chest as he hunches over his phone, at the two figures already going at it on the screen. He relishes the familiarity of his own fist around his dick for the first time in days (there’s no way he’s counting whatever happened Saturday night when he can’t recall a single second explaining how he woke up covered in spunk) and allows himself to lean into the arousal he’s not been able to indulge all day.

The girl on the screen starts squealing and Cartman huffs. Her high-pitched moans remind him of the way Heidi squealed at the party. He closes his eyes, allowing the noises to fuel the fantasy playing out in his mind's eye. This is the first time he’s had the chance to revel wholly in the events of Saturday night - to stroke his dick over the fact that he actually got somewhere with a girl, with _ Heidi _ of all people, for the first time in his life.

He squeezes his dick a little tighter and remembers how soft she felt under his hands, how she shook under Kenny’s mouth. The way Kenny looked up at him and - 

Wait -  _ no _ \- what the  _ fuck _ . 

Cartman’s hand only stills for a brief moment, his stomach lurching slightly, before he chooses to not even acknowledge that intrusive thought. He gulps, and swiftly carries on pulling at his dick, focusing earnestly on the crude sounds of the porno chick getting railed. He concentrates on imagining fucking Heidi,  _ Heidi _ , what  _ she _ would feel like. He’s seen her pussy - he’s got something to work with for this fantasy now. He can imagine what she’d look like stretched around him, what she’d look like soaking wet for him. It’s kind of a shame that she’s ruined this by being such a bitch, that this has to stay a fantasy. Maybe he would have had a chance with her one day. Maybe he could have gotten his first blow job from her. Ah,  _ fuck yeah _ .

He quickens his pace and furrows his brow at the thought of Heidi’s mouth around him, gasps and squeals flooding his ears. “Unnh-” He groans, cheeks growing pink and a heat starting to spread under his navel.

He imagines her below him, sitting on her knees, her damp lips around his dick. Maybe he’d cradle her face whilst he fucked into her mouth the same way she’d ever-so-gently cradled his. Maybe she’d look up at him and - suddenly it's Kenny’s eyes looking up at him, Kenny on his knees, and Kenny’s mouth around his -

_ No _ . No fucking way, _ NO _ .

Cartman’s eyes snap open and he grits his teeth. What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the _ fuck _ . This...isn’t happening. It can’t be. One hand freezes around his dick and the other flies up to slap over his mouth, almost comically, either in shock or straight-up nausea. His head spins a little - what the fuck is going on. What the fuck is _ happening _ .

After a few seconds of all-consuming horror, he realises the video is still playing, the chick sounding like she’s getting close - mocking Cartman for his inability to do so himself. He almost rips his earphones out but - no. No, he’s not going to be controlled by this shit. He’s not... _ that _ . He’s just - distracted. It’s been a weird weekend. Come on, he’s been jacking off every goddamn day for years - if there’s one thing he’s a pro at it’s _ this _ .

He grabs his dick roughly, determined, and starts pumping again. He’s so close - he  _ needs _ this. Come _ on _ . He keeps his eyes open this time - focusing wholly on the chicks bouncing tits and the way she cries out. But it’s too late. It’s like that whole ‘don’t think of a pink elephant’ spiel. It just doesn’t work. He’s left fighting to keep images of Kenny’s hollowed cheeks and the way his mouth gaped slightly as he jerked himself off from the floor out of his mind.

But still, Cartman keeps stroking his reddened dick, growing more and more frustrated - desperately trying to stop thinking of Kenny. Embarrassingly enough, his eyes start to well up, but he keeps going. Eventually, the porno chick gets cream-pied and the video ends. Cartman still pulls fruitlessly at his dick, battling through the complete mental torment, “Fuckin’ - come on. Come  _ on _ .” he grits out, like he can bully his dick into coming so he can just get this over with. 

It’s honestly a sorry sight; Cartman fisting himself so roughly, cheeks reddening from feeling so desperately unfulfilled, and eyes starting to spill frustrated tears. Eventually, after a shamefully long time, he chokes out an angry “ _ Fuck! _ ” and throws his phone to the floor. He rips out his earphones and throws those too. “What the _ fuck!”  _ he throws his head into his hands, cock still jutting angry and red from his open pants.

He rubs at his stupid leaking eyes and breathes a couple of ragged breaths. Fine. He’ll just go to sleep. He doesn’t  _ have _ to do this. He tugs his khakis off harshly, tucking himself back into his boxers, and shoves himself under his duvet. He closes his eyes and tries to keep still, tries to ignore the aching arousal, but ends up fidgeting; kicking out his legs and tossing from side to side.

_ Fuck _ , he needs to come. He needs to come so badly but he instead balls his hands into fists and screws his eyes shut even tighter. He can’t risk that shit again. He doesn’t know why this is happening but he’s not about to grab his dick and allow his mind to betray him again.

He tosses and turns, dick still hard and leaking in his pants but he straight-up  _ refuses _ to touch it, to go anywhere near it. He tries to sleep but he’s just so  _ pissed _ that his mind even has the ability to fuck him over him like this. It’s just - disgusting. It’s fuckin’ _ disgusting _ . This is Kenny, he reminds himself - his nasty, dumbass, poor, white-trash friend who he’s known since he was a kid. So why the hell is this all happening now?

The only thing that’s changed is that Heidi made that gross comment, so it  _ must _ be her fault. Maybe she planted some kind of manipulation chip in Eric’s brain when they made out. Maybe she drugged him. Whatever it is, it certainly has nothing to do with Cartman.

Well, he’s not just going to let this happen to him. He can control this. He’s  _ always _ in control.

Cartman lays there, sweating under his duvet, assuring himself of this for hours. He does eventually fall asleep - not because he’s managed to convince himself of anything, but from pure exhaustion. Of course, he doesn’t go easily, leaving himself with a mere two hours or so of rest before his alarm drags him back into groggy, awful consciousness. 

He wakes up feeling fucked up in more ways than one. In the truck, he leans his head against the passenger window and just...closes his eyes for a moment.

“Hey, Cartman.  _ Dude _ .” He feels a hand shoving at his shoulder, “Wake up, man.”

Cartman comes to, “Hmm?”

“Morning, sunshine - we’re at college. You good?”

Cartman scrubs the sleep from his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just - didn’t sleep last night.” 

Kenny frowns, “How come? Everything okay, dude?”

“Oh - yeah. S’all cool. Just one of those nights.” He shrugs. Kenny still looks worried, but convinced. Thank god - Cartman doesn’t know if he has the mental capacity to lie his way through this one right now.

The day goes as smoothly as it can for someone with such a small amount of sleep - adrenaline kicks in at some point and Cartman does feel a little more put together during his afternoon lectures - that’s not to say he doesn’t manage to fit in another micro-nap in Kenny’s truck on the way home, though. Kenny shakes him awake for the second time today.

“Hey, big guy,” Kenny’s hushed voice ekes it’s way into the forefront of Cartman’s mind “time to wake up.” Cartman opens his eyes to a warm smile. Ugh.

“Ugh.”

“You need to go get some real sleep, man. Go on, get inside.”

Cartman doesn’t need to be told twice. He bumbles wordlessly from the truck and towards his room - towards sweet, blissful sleep. Of course - there’s one thing he has to do first. He lays down in bed, unzips himself, and wraps a cautious hand round his dick. He’s in control. This is his brain, his dick. He’s  _ in control _ .

Credit where credits due, he gets pretty far this time round. He steers clear from using his own imagination - thinking that perhaps Heidi has fucked up his brain in a way that he now can’t remember her killer titties without also remembering the whole weird fuckin’ Kenny thing. It’s a shame the events of the party have become such forbidden territory for jacking off material but whatever - he just really needs to come, there’s no time for any if this sentimental bullshit. He focuses solely on the porno, jacking himself off hard and fast towards his one goal, this one thing he _ needs _ to do.

But of course - he’s once again interrupted by images of Kenny on his knees with low lids and a hungry look in his eyes. He tries and tries to battle through this one, and fuck, he really nearly gets there but - he can’t stop these uninvited images weedling their way into his thoughts. He’s defeated, once again.

He again struggles to sleep, but wakes this time with a smear of cum in his boxers - a wet dream. He’s been robbed of the satisfaction, the _ relief  _ of being conscious when he came. Awesome.  _ Of course _ his body wants to make everything just that one bit more frustrating for him.

He sleeps in Kenny’s truck again, struggles through his lectures. When he gets home this time he doesn’t even bother trying. He just ignores his arousal straight off the bat - if this is what it has to come to, then so be it. Maybe he’ll have to cut off his own hands, or maybe he’ll become a priest - maybe he’s doomed to a life of celibacy. Fine, he’ll live with that. Anything is better than being haunted by the same two-second memory of Kenny fuckin’ McCormick just fuckin’  _ looking _ at him any time he goes anywhere near his dick.

He sleeps a little better over the next few days, but he gets prickly - and it doesn’t take long for Kenny to catch on. One morning, soon after peeling another set of cum-stained boxers from himself, Cartman is confronted in the truck after failing once again to greet Kenny in any way.

“Dude, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.” Kenny looks concerned, and Cartman is sick of it. He’s sick of this asshole always being so nice, so understanding. Ugh, it makes him want to  _ puke _ .

“Dunno what you mean.”

“Cartman, come on, dude. You know you can talk to me about anything. Just tell me what’s up.” 

“Nothing’s fuckin’ _ up _ , Kenny. Jesus.” He folds his arms and glares out his window, “Just leave me alone.” He grumbles the last part under his breath.

“So you’ve been looking like shit and acting up over the past few days just for the fun of it, is that it? Cartman, don’t bullshit me. I’m always here for you, dude, but you’ve got to stop lying to me. I thought we were over this…”

Cartman feels a familiar hot rage build in his chest, but he elects to not even humour Kenny with an answer. He instead keeps glaring out his window, partly because he can’t stand to look at Kenny’s stupid dumbass face and partly because he’s worried that Kenny will be able to tell, just from the way his eyebrows are knitted together, that he’s been unable to come for the past week or so.

Cartman ignores Kenny on their way back from college, as well - though Kenny doesn’t really try to spark up a conversation. He said everything he needed to say this morning, and so leaves Cartman to stew. When Cartman gets back into his room, a message tone chimes from his phone,

‘ _ Still here if you need to talk _ ’

Cartman sneers. The phone chimes again.

‘ _ And you’re still my best friend, asshole _ ’

Cartman shoves it back into his pocket before he has to bear witness to any more faggy messages and climbs onto his bed. Despite the anger rolling through his ribcage, he feels his dick rise like it knows what time it is - like it’s begging to be a part of his routine again. He sighs and runs a hand over his clothed hardness, almost reminiscent. It really feels like the past few days have taken a lifetime to roll by, and  _ fuck _ is he feeling the consequences. Maybe he’ll - maybe he’ll try one more time.

He takes his dick out, but as soon as the first wave of arousal rolls through his body, he’s right there imagining Kenny again. It’s like his mind has developed some sick association for some reason, like any remotely sexual thought or feeling brings him straight back to that one time Kenny whipped his dick out in front of him.

Cartman feels like the butt of some cruel joke. And he’s tired of it. Maybe he’s being over-dramatic but,  _ Jesus Christ,  _ he needs to fuckin’ come already. He  _ needs _ to.

He hesitates for a second. He can really only see one option right now, only knows one person who’s a straight-up expert with this kind of shit.

_ ‘Fine. I need your help, dumbass’ _


	11. Regret

‘Okay, _I’m all ears_ ’

Shit. For some reason Cartman hasn’t planned far enough ahead for actually receiving a reply. What the hell is he meant to say now? He lays there on his back, dick jutting from his pants and eyes staring blank at the ceiling for a minute or so. He decides that he simply doesn’t have enough brain power or patience left to do anything besides tell the ugly truth. No point beating around the bush, as it were.

 _‘I can’t come_ ’ 

He lays with his phone on his chest and his fingers interlaced over the top of it, awaiting a chime of his phone, and with it, the fate of his aching dick.

‘ _Okay...and you’ve tried jacking it_?’

‘ _Are you kidding me? Of course I’ve fucking tried_

 _I’ve been trying for the past week, asshole_ ’

‘ _A week? You haven’t splooged in a whole week???_

_Jesus, Cartman, you should have told me sooner_

_This is serious_ ’

‘ _You’re telling me_.’

‘ _Fuck, dude, no wonder you’ve been so bitchy lately_ ’

‘ _If you’re not gonna help I’m might as well go right ahead and cut my dick off_ ’

‘ _Alright, let's not make any rash decisions. Dicks stay attached for now. Any idea why this is happening?_ ’

‘ _No idea. Just hurry up already’_

‘ _You jacking it right now, Cartman??_ ’

‘ _None of your fucking business_

_...Yes_

_Trying to_

_But it always leads to nowhere_

_I just can’t fucking come, Kenny_ ’ 

‘ _Shit, so this is an emergency_

_Don’t worry, dude, I’ve got you_

_You want some top-tier porn?_ ’

Yeah. Yeah, maybe this is what he needs. Maybe Kenny’s go-to pornos will be so awesome or so fucked up that they’ll cleanse his brain of all the shit he’s got going on up there. 

‘ _Sure_ ’ Honestly, he’ll try almost anything at this point. Almost.

A link pops up on the chat, which Cartman eagerly taps onto. It leads him to some janky looking site - one he’s never seen before, and he’s seen _a lot_. The concern about the pop ups fucking up his phone is short-lived, and quickly overridden by his need to come already. 

Cartman lowers his phones volume, presses play and _what the_ \- some kind of weird-ass 80’s cartoon springs into action, corny rock music included. A woman with giant tits and the tiniest bra meanders towards the screen and beckons the viewer towards her. She turns away, hands coming up behind her to pull at the fastenings of her bra. She looks teasingly over her shoulder and tosses it to the ground, then slowly turns around and - no. No this is too weird.

‘ _The fuck is this_ ’

‘ _Haha_

 _Worth a try_ ’

‘ _I’m fucking seriously Kenny, don’t fuck with me_

_Send some actual real life porn, dumbass_

_Not this fucked up shit_ ’

‘ _Dude, you don’t even know fucked up_

_Try this on for size’_

A second link pops up

 _‘Maybe this will awaken something in you_ ’

  
  


He clicks through. A fucking sex dungeon. Jesus fucking Christ. Fine, he’ll persevere. A dark-haired woman wrapped tightly in dominatrix get-up strolls towards a half-dressed dude laying tied up and spread-eagle on the floor. 

“You’ve been a bad boy, haven't you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And what do bad boys get?” She starts to press a high-heeled boot into his crotch.

“They get - ah -they get stepped on, Mistress.”

Cartman visibly grimaces as the woman leans more weight into her step.

“What do you say, slave?”

The man screws up his face and groans with obvious pain, “ _Huhh_ \- thank - thank you Mistress. _Thank you_.”

‘ _No_ ’

‘ _No?_ ’

‘ _No, Kenny, I’m not a fuckin’ freak like you wtf is this_ ’

_‘Yeah, that one was a bit of a gamble tbh_

_Okay, this one has to do something for you_

_One of my all-time favourites, dude - there’s something seriously wrong with you if this doesn’t get you off_ ’

When Cartman presses play, the camera comes into focus to reveal a cutesy blonde chick with her hair in low pigtails, eyes averted from the camera’s gaze. She’s wearing a little yellow sundress and she fiddles with her thumbs as the camera pans up and down her body - huh, alright, a POV. Cartman quickly notices the quality of it - there’s no way it’s meant to be free. This shit must have been stolen from a pricey site somewhere...Maybe Cartman won't pick on Kenny for his frugality this one time.

Two hands appear from either side of the camera’s field of vision. They brush over the chick's shoulders, then slowly dip to skirt over her small, clothed tits. This...this might work. Cartman tentatively wraps a hand around his dick.

The hands onscreen gently slip the dainty sundress straps over her shoulders, pulling them down to reveal small, perky tits. The hands run over them, squeezing slightly, thumbs passing briefly over her pastel-pink nipples. She bites her lip against a little squeak of arousal. Cartman huffs as he starts stroking his dick a little more earnestly. He has a good feeling about this one.

“Can I - can I suck you, sir?” The chick asks, ever-so-sweetly. Cartman has to wonder why Kenny is into this shit - it doesn’t really seem like his kinda thing but, whatever - it’s fuckin’ working for him.

The girl drops to her knees and makes quick work of unzipping the flies in front of her nose. She pulls out a monster dick and looks at it with awe, “Oh, _wow_.” She seems genuinely impressed. Shit, she’s adorable. Cartman feels his stomach flutter and his dick jump.

She takes the onscreen dick in one hand, pumps it a couple of times, and then licks lightly up the length of it. Her bright eyes flutter upwards and then -

Awh, shit _. Fucking_ \- ugh. His hand freezes around his dick, the scene in front of him conjuring up the same image of Kenny on his knees that’s been haunting him all week. It’s not similar in any way but it seems his brain has been enjoying jumping to conclusions and connecting non-existent dots lately - and with the screen now filled with blonde hair and dick, that’s apparently too much of a coincidence for his brain to be able to process. 

His dick twitches almost painfully in his stilled hand.

_‘This isn’t working._ _I guess there’s something seriously wrong with me_ ’

‘ _Are you kidding me Cartman?_

 _That shit is so hot, dude_ ’

Eric scrubs at his brow. Fuck this.

‘ _Guess I just don’t get the appeal or whatever’_ He’s not about to admit the real reason as to why he can’t come already.

Not five seconds later, Cartman’s phone springs to life with an incoming call. 

“What do you want, dumbass?”

“Dude, I don’t believe that this shit can’t get you off, there’s literally no way, Cartman.”

“Well, guess I’m fucked, then. Because I can’t do it.”

“No. No this isn’t the Cartman I know. How far into the video are you?”

“About two minutes, _why_?”

“Alright, go back to the start. You must be watching it wrong, dude. I feel personally offended that you’re not blowing your load to this.”

“Jesus, what is it with this one that gets your panties in such a twist, huh?”

“Well - I - don’t fuckin’ question me Cartman, just press play - you’re watching this one again.”

“The fuck-”

“ _Press play_ , dude”

Cartman rolls his eyes, and follows Kenny’s instructions, putting him on speakerphone while he taps back on the link. He doesn’t like where this is going, he’s not stupid - he knows he should probably end the call and get back to being miserable about his dick again but here he is, following Kenny along, getting himself into deeper shit as he's been oh-so-eager to lately. 

The scene plays over once again - pigtails, pretty dress, whatever. Cartman hears Kenny clear his throat and something twinges inside of him. That same uneasiness that he’s become increasingly all too familiar with.

“Alright so,” Kenny’s voice croaks to life, “You’re watching it right?”

Cartman blows an exasperated breath, “ _Yes_ , I’m watching your dumbass porno.” 

“So you can see how cute this chick is right, you’ve not completely gone blind on me, right, Cartman?”

“Sure, whatever.” He really doesn’t want to relive this again - especially not with Kenny right here in his goddamn ear. This is bad.

“ _Dude_.”

“Yes! Fine! She’s hot or whatever, I just don’t get-”

“Shut the fuck up Cartman, let me just - let me talk you through this for a second.”

“I’m not retarded, dude, I don’t need -”

“Look at how small she is, how delicate. Just look at her, dude. She’s like some kinda - some kinda angel or some shit.” 

“What the fuck are you-”

“Like she’s so...unassuming, right? Like she doesn’t belong in a fuckin’ porno but here she is and - look, it’s like you’re the one reaching out and touching her, right?

“Right…”

_“Can I - can I suck you, sir?”_

“And then shit, she goes and says that and it just completely throws you off, man. I love that shit. She’s this little innocent thing and it took her so much courage for her to ask, but damn she just wants it so bad that she-”

“We’re like thirty seconds in, dude, how are you getting any of that from this?”

“It’s… just a fantasy, Cartman. I’m using my imagination, dude. You should try it some time.” Oh, hell no - his imagination is what’s gotten him into this mess. 

“Cool, so we make up shit about some porno stranger and then what?”

Cartman hears Kenny sigh, “Then we keep watching her suck on this guys meat. Obviously.”

“Okay.”

“And we listen to the way she moans around it, and at those beautiful eyes, and the way she looks so damn excited to be to be doing it and -” Kenny gulps so loudly that Eric actually hears it. It crackles through Eric’s earphone and shivers down his spine, “Just look at her dude, come on.” Eric’s dick twitches. His hand starts moving around it without him really meaning to. 

“Uh huh.” He says, trying to encourage Kenny without a great deal of grace. He can feel it - the mistake happening right before his eyes but he’s such a slave to his dick right now that he just can’t bring himself to put a stop to anything.

“So - when she gets up. Right about -- now. Just look at her lips, dude. They’re all pink and puffed out. And shit, it’s such a good fucking POV because, watch this, man.” A hand reaches around the camera to swipe at the girl's lips, the pad of a thumb reaching into her mouth to prod at her tongue. “Fucking - just the way she looks at the camera, dude. It’s so hot, like she’s hypnotised or some shit. And look at her nips, Cartman, they’re like little bullets now. She’s so turned on, dude. But she’s still so fucking shy about it, _shit,_ gets me every time.” Kenny’s voice falters a little at the end of his sentence and Cartman has to bite down on a groan. _Crap_.

“You good Cartman?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He grits out.

“Nice.” Kenny chuckles, but there’s a huskiness to his tone, “You’re doing great, dude.” Cartman grips his dick a little tighter, fidgeting as another wave of arousal prickles across his body.

“So here’s where it gets even hotter. You didn’t watch this far right?” 

“Nah.” 

“So when she bends over - shit - look at how wet she is, dude. You can see it coming through her panties. She wants this so fucking bad, it’s crazy.”

“Uh huh.” Cartman distantly wonders if Kenny can hear his hand slapping up and down his cock. Whatever, he’s heard it before. 

The girl on screen pulls her underwear to one side, a blush high on her cheeks.

“ _Fuck my ass. Please, sir, just fuck me. Please_ ”

“Ahh, fuck, and the begging. God, I love that shit. So hot.” 

A lubed-up thumb skirts around the girl’s beautifully blushed hole one, twice, and then slowly pushes into her.

“ _Haah, more. Please. I need more._ ” The thumb is exchanged for a couple of fingers side-by-side.

Eric swears he hears a small hum of a moan from Kenny and _fuck_ , what if Kenny is also touching himself right now? What if they’re both jacking it at the same time?? That would be so, so fucked. Cartman feels panic rise in his chest. He should say something. He should stop this.

The on screen dick starts to slide ever so slowly into the chick’s ass, “Ahh, _shit_ just look at her face, dude. She looks - fuck, she looks so sweet. That concentration. Taking that dick like a champ, fuck yeah.”

“Yeah.” Eric squeezes his eyes shut. He hears a slight strain in Kenny’s voice and it’s just too much. This is too fuckin’ much. He listens to Kenny ramble for a good minute, but wouldn’t for the life of him be able to repeat any of the words he’s saying - they all just blur into one another. 

What Eric instead finds himself zoned in on is just how low Kenny's voice has dropped and all the little huffs and groans he tries to cover up by coughing. Cartman squeezes his dick and creeps his phone’s speaker closer to his ear, his hand moving at near-on lightening speed at this point.

Suddenly, one particularly poorly-concealed sound of pleasure catches him off-guard.

“Mmnh-” 

It’s small, something that could barely be considered a real moan, but it’s _clear_ and _desperate_ \- a solid piece of evidence that yes, Kenny is definitely jacking off right now - and it punches Cartman right in the goddamn gut. 

Eric launches his phone away from his face, holding it firmly at arms-length away from his mouth, as he feels his fuckin’ soul leave his body through his dick. He bites down on his lip hard, desperately forcing the torrent of moans that want so desperately to warble from his throat, back inside him. His cheeks turn pink and his brow furrows with the effort. 

Relief floods every part of him, makes his brain feel like warm honey, like he’s temporarily lost the ability to think, to feel anything except pure, overwhelming pleasure. When it clears just enough for him to remember his name again, he snaps his eyes open and hopes to god that Kenny didn't ask him any questions or hear anything while he fucking left this plane of existence for a few seconds there. 

He’s definitely not ready to move or talk but he doesn’t want to raise suspicion. He swallows his ragged breaths, holds the phone closer, and tunes back into what Kenny is saying.

Thankfully, he's still rambling.

“-and the way her eyes are rolling back into her head and those little sounds of-”

“Kenny.”

“-pleasure being fucked out of her, it’s so-”

“ _Kenny!_ ”

“Oh, shit, sorry - yeah, dude?”

“Yeah, no, it’s still not working, man.” His mouth is dry. He looks down at his round stomach, the way it rises and falls - an insane amount of cum slipping down its sides, clinging onto little hairs as it goes.

“Are you - you serious, dude?”

“Yeah,” He swipes a thumb through his mess, “I just, I really can’t come.” He pulls a couple tissues from his nightstand, still feeling light-headed.

“Holy shit. Holy _shit,_ dude. I don’t mean to be an ass but - _how_ _??_ This shit is golden, dude. What the hell are you doing over there?”

“I just don’t know, Kenny,” He wipes at the mess, scooping out the little puddle of cum from his bellybutton, “Maybe it’s been so long that I’ve just forgotten how to jack off. I dunno, but it’s not working. Guess this is it for me.”

“How the - shit, dude, you really are struggling.”

“Yep. Oh well, I’ll get over it. Thanks for the porn, anyway.”

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, Cartman. Seriously, dude, don’t be embarrassed or anything. We’ll find something that works for you.”

“Yeah, cool, I just - I gotta go Kenny.”

“I’m here for you, dude, we can get you through this. I believe in you, man.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ_. “Uh huh. I’m going now Kenny.”

“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be blowing your load like a fuckin’-”

“Yep, okay, see ya, dude.” He can’t jab at the ‘end call’ button quick enough. As he drops the phone besides him, post-nut clarity settles heavy on his shoulders. He shouldn’t have done that. He really shouldn’t have done that, _fuck_.

He scoops up the bundle of tissues strewn around the bed and drops them in the trash, mind ticking over a rational explanation for this shit that doesn’t point towards him having whatever this fucked up _thing_ is for - _ugh_ \- _Kenny McCormick_.

He slumps down on the edge of his bed and rips a clean tissue from his bedside table, pinching little holes in it as he thinks. Well...he’s come from Kenny’s descriptions and stories before, right? This is just... _that_ again. Kenny has a real eye for what makes something hot, and he’s got a talent for sharing it with other people. Yeah, it was Kenny’s description of it that tipped Eric over the edge. His way with words. Nothing homo about that - just taking advantage of Kenny’s eagerness to spout nasty, slutty shit. And he came! Finally! So it’s totally whatever - Kenny just helped him see the porn through new, enlightened eyes.

Eric sighs a drained breath. He stares down at the shredded tissue. Now he’s just got to repeat this to himself until he forgets that he had his eyes shut for the last half of that phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I won't lie, this one was a bit difficult to write just because I'm so excited to get to work on Chapter 12 already)


	12. Admission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, jeez Louise. I'm sorry this one is late - I knew what I wanted to happen in this Chapter but it just kept going and going, and I didn't feel like there was a good place to separate it out into multiple pieces.  
> So enjoy this way-too-long Chapter, I hope it's worth the wait :)

Cartman has the best night's sleep he’s had all week - as soon as his head hit the pillow he’d slipped easily into a deep and fulfilling unconsciousness. He wakes feeling well-rested, alert for the first time in days, and able to string a thought together without it being derailed by the constant need to come.

And he hates it. He’d much rather be the pissed-off, exhausted version of himself from a day ago than this shit.

He feels _good_ . Too good. It makes his skin fucking crawl. It makes him feel like he wants to bore into his guts and tear out the bit that keeps fluttering whenever his brain conjures up the vivid sound of Kenny touching himself. He’d rather never sleep again than have that be the reason why he slept so well, why he feels so good, the reason he’d - _ugh_. Cartman shoves his face in his hands and groans. The fuck is he going to do? 

This isn’t him. He isn’t - he’s not - he’s _straight_. He’s straight and he came to that hot chick taking it up the ass, not Kenny’s stupid fucking voice. He likes tits. He really does. Tits and soft skin and long hair and Heidi and cute blonde girls who sweetly ask if they can suck your virtual cock.

Cartman clears his throat, scattering the mess of images crowding his mind. He decides that today is the perfect day to embrace every possible opportunity that could distract his brain from it’s current turmoil. Maybe he’ll start by burying himself in college work. With any luck he’ll be able to swamp his brain with enough facts and figures to leave no space for a single other... _thing_.

So he does just that. He completes all of his outstanding work, gets as much of his current projects completed as possible, and doesn’t leave his desk unless it’s to take a piss or occupy himself with food. It could be called comfort eating if it provided him with any comfort at all. It instead leaves him feeling uncomfortably full and sluggish. 

The struggle to keep his thoughts from wandering eventually proves too difficult. He’s exhausted, well and truly burnt out, and as the sun dips low in the sky, he realises he’s run out of both work and food - leaving him with no distractions to keep the forbidden thoughts at bay. 

He’s not stupid. He knew this wouldn’t be a sustainable way to carry out the rest of however long it takes him to get over this shit. Perhaps he’d allowed himself the hope of not tiring from the distractions so quickly, though. He has to admit that this just isn’t going to work - something needs to change. As he sits, defeated, at his desk, he comes to the conclusion that he has no other option - he’s got to stop going to Kenny for advice. No more truck talks. No more listening to his stupid-ass stories. No more allowing himself to go along with Kenny’s dumb ideas. 

If he keeps talking to Kenny, if shit like this keeps happening, then he really doesn’t know where that’s going to lead him. If no more... _mistakes_ are made again then he can just get over what’s already happened, right? How does the saying go - ‘time heals all weird-feelings-about-your-best-friend-Kenny-McCormick’? 

He’s learnt a shit-tonne about sex. He had a great time with Heidi (for the most part), and it’s kinda sad seeing as Kenny was teaching him how to trust people and stop being so pissed off all the time or whatever, but it’s time to stop.

He makes a firm decision, then and there, that his next best move is to start distancing himself, to start viewing all of this as just a weird fucking thing that happened a couple of times - and move on.

He eventually settles into bed, watching some dumb Youtube video to wind down from the tiresome day. He feels kind of...sad, for some reason. Like he’s already mourning the loss of something, perhaps of the most meaningful friendship he’s ever had. But it has to be done. He knows in his heart that it’s the right thing to do.

He’s already ignored Kenny’s attempts of contacting him today - a couple of simple messages asking how he’s feeling - and as of Monday, he’ll start getting the bus to and from college, further distancing himself from Kenny and all the fucked-up-shit that comes with confiding in him.

Cartman is suddenly ripped from his pensive reflections by an almighty crash not too far from his door. He bolts upright, heart beating a little faster in his chest, waiting for another sound, but nothing more comes. Maybe it’s just an asshole being clumsy in the kitchen. 

Whatever. He pops his earphone back in and resumes his video.

Then - pounding on his door, like someone smacking it wildly with an open hand. Eric stills for a second, before slowly swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He creeps towards the noise, wondering just who the hell - _oh no_ . Oh _goddamnit_. He unlocks and yanks it open. Kenny falls through the doorway.

“You’ve got to be kidding-”

“‘Sup, dude! Sss-sorry about the noise n’ stuff. Totally fell on my ass back there, _might_ have broken your front door, but s’cool.”

“Jesus - _Kenny_ , what the fuck are you doing here, I was about to sleep, asshole.”

He staggers towards Eric, stinking of booze and cigarettes, and grips each of Eric's shoulders tightly in his hands. “Dude. Have you come yet?” He asks, unfocused eyes flitting over Cartman like his life depends on the answer.

“ _The fuck_ -”

“Have. You. Come. Yet.” He jostles Eric’s shoulders with each word, “Dude, this is _serious_ , I gotta know.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Uhh...No you haven’t come or no you don’t wanna tell me?”

“Both! Whatever! Kenny why the fuck do you-” Kenny pulls Eric into a tight hug.

“Oh man, ohh no. I’m so - I’m sorry, dude, you don’t deserve this,” Eric attempts to twist out from under Kenny’s arms, “Poor Cartman, shhh, don’t worry, I’m here now, ol’ Ken’s got you. Sshhhh.” He sways Cartman from side-to-side, in a way his intoxicated brain probably believes to be comforting. Cartman is far from comforted.

“Get the-” Eric struggles fiercely, “Get the fuck off me, Kenny!” He finally breaks free, putting a good couple of steps of distance between the two of them. “Fucking Jesus Christ - _Kenny_ , the fuck are you even doing here?”

“Well,” Kenny sways where he stands, “I was at a party, uhh...can’t remember who’s now, but, like - _dude_ , I kept thinking about you. How fucked up this all is, y’know? I was at this dumb party, ffuckin’ - tryna get my dick wet but you’re here and you can’t even jack yourself off. That’s so fucked up, Cartman! I couldn’t enjoy myself dude, I called an uber n’ came straight round. I’m here to help, man.”

“No.” Cartman shakes his head, “No you’re not gonna come round here, drunk off your goddamn ass and-”

“Sshhh! Dude, just - just hear me out. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. Y’know, last night?”

Cartman ignores him and slumps down on the edge of his bed, face in his hands. Kenny waits a couple of beats before dumbly carrying on, “Okay, well, you said you’ve probably forgotten how to jack off and _dude_ .” He crashes onto the bed next to Cartman, and to his horror, places a gentle hand on his knee, “What if you’re right? That would be so fuckin’ _sad._ I can’t let this happen to you, man.”

Cartman takes a deep breath, “Kenny, I don’t need any of this bullcrap. I just wanna sleep, just please let me-”

“Nnno, no, see it’s - it’s okay, dude, I’m here now,” Kenny interrupts. Again. “This is, shit, this is an _emergency_ , Cartman! Your balls are probably on the verge of ffuckin’...exploding or some shit. I can’t let that happen, man. I’m here to solve all your problems, all your little - your little y’know” he drops one hand to mimic jacking himself off “-dick problems”

Cartman’s brain just about short-circuits. “Ohhh no. No no no - you are _not_ solving my _dick_ problems, Kenny. Not here, not now, not ever. I’m fine. Turn your drunk ass around and -”

“Hey, heyy, it’s all cool dude, all cool, no gay shit, I promise. Look, all you've gotta do is put some porn on - your choice - drop trou, and show me how you jack off. I can totally give you pointers, where there’s room for improvement or whatever, and I bet I can-”

“Okay, _no_ . No, Kenny. We are _not_ doing this.” Cartman shoves Kenny’s hand away and climbs under his duvet, “If you stop being a fag you can stay round, but if not, you know where the door is, and you can go right ahead and leave.”

“Okay, but, I’m serious, Cartman. I jus’ wanna help, I feel so - so _baaad_ for you, dude.”

Cartman turns his back to Kenny, firmly closing his eyes, “Don’t care. Shut up or leave.” A blissful silence follows, but Cartman is still pissed. Pissed at Kenny being such a dumbass and pissed that his body is already betraying him in the way that it is - a stupid goddamn boner poking at the front of his Pj’s entirely uninvited. 

The silence is broken all too soon, when Kenny’s entirely-too-loud whisper cuts through the dark room.

“Cartman.” he hisses. Cartman ignores him. The hand that suddenly grabs his thigh makes him, and shamefully also his dick, jump. _Shit_.

“ _Cartman._ ” The hand squeezes a little tighter. Cartman's heart races. He feels Kenny’s weight shift towards him.

“Cartman, fuck, I don’t - I don’t feel too good, man.” Cartman’s eyes snap open. Oh shit. He launches himself out of bed and snatches a leftover ready-meal container from his desk, shoving it under Kenny’s chin just in time for Kenny to release a column puke into it. He holds his hands over Cartman’s, pulling the container closer to his mouth. It’s in no way near big enough to hold the volume of vomit that Kenny is currently expelling, and puke almost immediately starts overflowing onto his sweater and Cartman’s carpet.

“Woah, hey, come on, Kenny, let's get you to the bathroom.” He starts pulling the container away from Kenny’s face, guiding him to a standing position. He wriggles one hand out from underneath Kenny’s to wrap around his waist instead. Kenny gives a long groan and gags dangerously over the container. When they make it to the bathroom, Kenny immediately sinks to his knees, head hanging into the toilet bowl. He murmurs something incoherent. 

“A little louder, dude.”

“M’ sorry.”

Cartman sighs. He cups a hand around Kenny’s forehead, lifting his face out of the way as he pours the contents of the makeshift puke-bucket down the bowl. Kenny’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he’s manoeuvred, and his neck goes slack as Cartman lowers him back down.

“Don’t be sorry, you’re gonna be alright. You’re just a drunk dumbass is all.”

There’s silence from inside the toilet bowl.

“Hey,” Cartman pokes at his shoulder, “You still with me, McCormick?”

Kenny suddenly springs to life, darting to his knees and gripping the sides of the toilet seat to empty his guts noisily again, coughing and groaning between retches. 

“Jesus, Kenny.” It’s painful - seeing Kenny like this - and Cartman finds himself feeling uncomfortable yet again. There’s something about Kenny being vulnerable, whether it be watching Kenny spew like this, or hearing the secret huffs of arousal through his phone speaker - he doesn’t like how it pulls at something inside of him. Except, this time he doesn't feel his dick reacting, he feels it in his goddamn _heart_.

He can’t help himself, his feet start moving before he fully commits to the decision, and he squats down next to Kenny’s slumped figure. He gives a full-body sigh and places a hand on Kenny’s back, allowing himself to rub slow, comforting circles into his spine. 

“M’ sorry.” Kenny repeats, a little clearer this time. He sounds exhausted.

“Quit apologising, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“I made a mess, dude.” It sounds unnervingly like Kenny is apologising for more than just his puke. Cartman doesn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah. Yeah you did. All over your favourite sweater.”

Kenny looks down at himself, like he didn’t even know he’d stained it. “Awh, man!” He falls backwards onto his ass, away from Cartman's hand, and gestures at his vomit-splattered shirt, “I’m so fuckin’ gross!” He gives a weak grin.

Just that little grin sends a wave of relief through Cartman. He takes it as a sign that that vulnerable crap is over with, and allows himself to return a small smile.

“Christ, it’s like you’re proud of it or some shit. You done puking?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He flushes the toilet for Kenny before pulling him to his feet, slinging Kenny’s arm over his shoulders to support his weight on the short walk back to his room. Cartman sets him down on his bed, Kenny immediately toppling over onto his side, and starts to rummage through his draws for a change of clothes. He balls up a t-shirt and tosses it to him. Kenny makes no attempt to catch it, and it falls over his head.

“You need pants, too?” Cartman asks.

“Nah.”

Cartman stops rummaging and decides to give Kenny some space to get changed. He bumbles to the kitchen and pours two glasses of water. When he returns, Kenny is still laying with the shirt strewn over his face. Cartman sets the waters down on his bedside table.

“Goddammit, Kenny, you need to change before you pass out. Come on.” He slides his legs under his duvet for the third time tonight and toes at Kenny’s body, urging him to sit up. Kenny groans and swings upright, like some sort of marionette being controlled by a shitty puppeteer. He pulls the shirt from his face and starts thumbing at the hem of his sweater.

“I’m sorry, dude.” He says.

“Christ, Kenny, if you say sorry one more time-”

“No but - the porn, man. You didn’t like it. I'm a bad friend.” Cartman breathes a sigh of relief. Thank God, it’s nothing serious.

“Eh, just not for me. It’s cool.”

“Really pushed it with that last one, huh?” He pulls his sweater away from his body and studies the puke.

“The last porno? The one with the blonde chick?”

“Yeah.”

“...We watched the same thing right? That was the least fucked up of all of them, Kenny.”

Kenny blinks at him, “Wait, dude, you didn’t...realise?”

“What?”

“That chick, dude. She’s the fffuckin’ - she’s the spit of Marjorine.”

“Marjorie?”

“Come on, Cartman, don’t play dumb.” He goes to pull his sweater over his head, and then stops, frowning at it like he can’t figure out how to not smear puke on his face. 

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, Kenny.”

“Marjorine! You know when Butters dressed up as a girl and it fucked us all up for, like, months. She looks just like him!” He pulls his arms inside his sweater and tries to slide it over his face again.

“ _Fuck_ , Kenny. Are you for real? You made me jack it to one of your gay-ass fantasies, are you fuckin’ _kidding me_?”

“Dude! First of all, you watched a porn of a girl. That’s not _gay_ , you huge dumbass. Second of all I didn’t fuckin’ - I didn’t _make_ you jack it. And third - shit, I think I’m stuck in this thing - third of all, you really didn’t know? Cartman I know you’re kinda clueless but, shit, dude.”

“Screw you, Kenny. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. You’re a real bitch, you know that? You really wanted to betray me like this, huh? Well, congratulations, asshole, you really - oh, _Godamnit_ , dude, just come here.” He yanks Kenny towards him, tired of seeing the pathetic struggle before him, “Look, just - keep your arms down, I’ll just-” 

He shoves his hands under Kenny’s sweater, grimacing at how warm it is, how his fingers brush over Kenny’s skinny frame. He breathes through the stupid fluttering in his stomach and pushes his hands through the neck-hole, webbing his fingers outwards so that Kenny is able to duck out of the puke-prison without any of it touching his face.

He throws the sweater far away from the two of them and sits back against the bed’s headboard, “You can do the shirt yourself. It stinks.” He tries to avert his gaze, but Kenny is clumsy, attracting Cartman’s attention. He knows Kenny is skinny, could imagine, if he really wanted to, what he looks like under all those baggy clothes, but the torso in front of him surprises him for some reason. Maybe he expected complete skin and bones. Sure, as Kenny stretches the shirt over his head, his ribs protrude, and as he relaxes, his spine is a little more visible than it perhaps should be, but there’s also a decent amount of lean muscle stretched over his skeleton - over his biceps and stomach. 

He’s also taken aback by the light dusting of golden hairs that litter his body - forming a pretty path from his belly button to somewhere below his waistband.

What probably should shock him but doesn’t are all the grazes and scars that litter his body - patches of dark blues and thick risen stripes all over. It just...suits him - an extension of those scraped knuckles Cartman so diligently studied not so long ago. He feels a fierce heat flood his cheeks and is deeply thankful for the cover of darkness.

Kenny pulls Cartman’s shirt over his head, and then stands, giving a clumsy twirl.

“You never gave my other shirt back.” Cartman realises out loud.

“Oh. Yeah.” Kenny laughs, “Forgot, man. I’ll get that back to you.”

“You’re gonna steal all my shit, aren’t you? I know you’re too poor to buy your own clothes, but I really expected better of you, Kenny.”

“Shut the fuck up, Cartman.” He grins down at Eric and promptly sheds his jeans. Cartman clears his throat.

“So...what’s the story with those other pornos? You didn’t have a chance to betray me with those. They were fuckin’ weird, dude.” He makes an effort to avert his gaze for real this time. A torso is one thing...looking at Kenny’s ass would be kinda gay, though.

Kenny falls onto the end of Cartman’s bed, shuffling clumsily until his back presses up against the wall, scrawny ankles hanging over the side of the mattress. “Uhh, no story. I don’t think. Just into that shit, I guess.” Cartman hands him a glass of water.

“Thanks, dude.” He down the entire thing in a few gulps and hands it back, swiping a forearm over his mouth, “I mean, I guess the dominatrix one reminds me of Bebe.”

“Bebe Stevens?”

“Yeah, dude. She’s, _man,_ she’s so hot.” He shuts his eyes and tips the crown of his head back against the wall, “I ever tell you about the time she fucked me in the ass?”

“Gross, Kenny.” But...he’s listening.

“Bebe fuckin’ Stevens. She ruined me, I swear to fuckin’ God. First girl to ever peg me.” Cartman stays quiet. Kenny takes it as an invitation to keep talking, “So I’d fucked her before. Like, I don’t know, three? Five? times. I dunno. Anyway, we’d normally go to my dorm but this time she, like, pretty much drags me to her place. When we get there she takes me to her room and pulls out his huge - and I mean fuckin’ colossal, dude,” He gestures enthusiastically with his hands “- fake dick and says she wants to put it _in me._ I was like dude. Duuuuude. _Hell_ fuckin’ yeah! So, she threw this monster cock on, and told me to _suck it_ ” His head falls towards Cartman and he looks at him with glazed-over eyes, mouth hooked into his typical nasty grin. Eric’s own mouth goes dry. 

“So, I’m sure you can guess what I fuckin’ did.” Cartman realises that he’s actually expecting an answer.

“Did you…” Eric folds his legs towards himself, “Did you suck her?” He doesn’t want to know the answer. Doesn’t want to hear any more. Shouldn’t get sucked in to yet another of Kenny’s stupid sexy stories. He stares back at Kenny, waiting with baited breath for him to speak again.

“Damn straight I did, dude. I got on my knees and I swallowed that purple dick _down_.” Kenny re-centres his head against the wall and closes his eyes again.

“You’re nasty, Kenny.”

“Yeah.” He smiles dreamily.

Eric wiggles where he sits, “So...what happened after that?”

“She fucked me in the ass with it. Obviously. Thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about that though.” 

“Oh - yeah. Well, duh. I’m not a fag.”

“I know, Cartman.”

“Good.” He picks at the bedding laying over his lap, hating that he feels disappointed, “Hey, you need anything else? I think I’m gonna sleep now.” Sleep is probably the best option for him, right now. If he doesn't have the willpower to stop listening to Kenny, then forcing unconsciousness on himself should do the trick.

Kenny sniffs, “Nah.”

“Okay.” Cartman wiggles downwards until his head is on his pillow, making sure to scrunch up his legs so they don’t touch Kenny, “Night.”

“Night, dude.”

Cartman knows as soon as he closes his eyes that he’s not going to be able to sleep tonight. With the image of Kenny’s naked torso burned into his retinas, and the thought of him on his knees for Bebe’s strap fresh in his mind, he stands no chance. Even the weight of him sitting by Eric’s feet is distracting. Christ, he’s fucked up. Maybe Kenny has the right idea about getting blackout drunk. Eric breathes deeply, trying to fill his mind with tits and girl ass, with Heidi’s pussy and, hell, even that Marjorine look-alike. Anything to distract him from the drunk dumbass at the end of his bed.

After an undetermined amount of time spent trying to divert his thoughts, he feels Kenny’s weight shift. He hears him swallow, and the soft static sound of material sliding over material, each noise amplified in the dark. The sounds pull him out of his thoughts, and he’s about to tell Kenny to quit fidgeting already, but then he hears it - a damp ‘ _shlick_ ’ that he’s all too familiar with. 

He’s not entirely convinced he didn’t dream it at first, but then it happens again. And again, increasing in regularity, until a pattern is formed and the bed starts to jostle ever-so-slightly. Cartman’s throat almost closes and his heart beats double-time under his rib cage. Kenny is fucking jerking off. There’s no doubt about it.

Blood instantly rushes to his dick. What the fuck. What the _fuck_. He’s suddenly way too conscious of his breathing and tries desperately to even it out, to make it sound like he’s asleep, like his heart isn’t pummelling violently against his lungs. He’s either going to suffocate or pass out, he’s sure of it.

Kenny hums a small moan. It sounds like he’s trying to be quiet, but he’s too drunk to have any sort of volume control. The fucking _idiot_. Cartman has to say something, has to put a stop to this shit. He can’t just lay here listening to Kenny jack himself off a mere foot or so away from him all night.

He starts by squinting through barely-open eyes. It takes his sight a second to adjust in the darkness, but when it does he nearly blows his cover right then and there. He grits his jaw as tightly as he can, teeth clamping down over the pathetic gasp that threatens to escape his mouth. 

Kenny is still sitting against the wall, head tilted back and eyes shut - but he’s shucked his boxers part-way down his thighs, revealing a long, uncut dick. It sways as Kenny runs a tight fist over it again and again, hips grinding upwards ever-so-slightly. He runs a hand over his chest, pinching a nipple and grits out another moan.

Cartman has to fucking do something, has to say something already.

“...You thinking about her?” He asks, barely a whisper. His mouth is tacky and his chest _hurts_.

Kenny doesn’t even startle, doesn’t even open his eyes. He’s either too drunk, too horny, or just way too unashamed to give a shit, “Uh huh.” He nods.

Cartman carefully, slowly, pulls himself upright. He feels like if he moves too fast he’ll disturb the delicate scene before him and startle Kenny like a wild animal.

“I - uh…” Cartman doesn’t stop watching, Kenny doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down his dick, “I wanna hear about her. About what Bebe did.” Kenny finally opens his eyes, swinging his head around to fix a heavy-lidded gaze on him, “Yeah?”

In an act of uncharacteristic bravery, or perhaps pure lust-filled dumbassery, Cartman pushes the duvet from his lap, revealing the tent in his pants. He pushes those down as well, before reaching into his boxers and pulling out his own hard dick, “Yeah.” 

He manages to hold eye contact with Kenny until the moment he fishes his boner through his boxers, at which point his eyes flit downwards, too chickenshit to see Kenny’s reaction. 

If he hadn’t looked away he would have seen Kenny’s eyes widen almost comically, “Huh. Well that’s a grower if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Screw you, asshole.” But it’s half-hearted, Cartman already distracted by the heavenly feeling of moving his hand around his neglected dick, “ _Fuck_.”

Kenny swallows thickly, “Okay, so, uhh...once I sucked her off, she - she grabbed my hair and threw me onto her bed. Just - _shit_ \- fuckin’ tossed me around like a rag doll, Cartman.”

Shit. It’s happening. They’re jacking it at the same time, in the same room. This isn’t Cartman getting a stupid boner after smoking too much, this isn’t Kenny sending him shitty porn to help him come for the first time in days. This is _real_. This is fucking happening and Cartman isn’t drunk or high this time - he’s all out of excuses. He stares at the way Kenny’s wet cock-head bobs above his fist.

“She told me to get on my hands and knees and I was all geared up to take that dick, but shit, Cartman, she’s a tease. A real meanie. Fuckin’ spanked me til my ass was raw and I was begging her to just stuff it in me already.” 

The idea of Kenny begging with his rosy ass in the air isn’t one he’s ever thought of before, would ever have expected to think about in a thousand years - but now it’s in his brain and it might just be the hottest image that he's ever unwillingly conjured up. “ _Shit_.” He grits out.

“I know, right? So fuckin’ hot. Anyway - eventually, after she thinks I've begged enough, she lubes up a couple fingers and just shoves them straight into me, no warm up. _Fuck_ , dude it burned so _good_.” He stops talking for a brief second, seemingly relishing the memory, “She wouldn’t touch my dick, wouldn’t let me touch it myself, just kept her fingers still and made me bounce back onto ‘em. Dude, she got me so worked up. A fuckin’ - _mnh_ \- a fuckin’ natural at that domme shit.” 

“So did she ever actually, y’know…?”

“Fuck me? Yeah, dude. She fucked me. Fucked me good. I was already a damn mess by the time she got behind me and slid that monster dick in my ass. I remember I kept tryna look at her - you’ve got no idea how hot she is with all those straps around her ass. She’d bought one of those harness bra things as well, and _shit_ \- she looked out of this damn world, dude. But she wouldn’t let me look, kept shoving my face into the pillow, telling me the dirtiest shit.”

“Like what?”

“That I hadn’t earned looking at her, that I didn’t deserve anything more than what she was giving me. And fuck, she gave it to me good, Cartman. Fucked me so hard, so rough. I felt so fuckin’ used, _hah_.”

Kenny’s voice starts to warble, each word sounding broken, strained, and Cartman can see his fist increase in speed over his dick.

“What does it...feel like? Being...fucked?” Cartman’s own voice is low and breathless.

“Cartman, it feels so - _hahh_ \- so, so good.” Kenny scrunches up his face in pleasure, “You’ve got no idea - Oh, _fuck_ \- getting - getting stretched out and shit. You feel it all the way through you. It’s nothing like getting your dick touched, it’s...whole body pleasure, it’s kinda overwhelming, almost too much, y’know. It’s - _fuck_.” Kenny’s mouth gapes, unable to string a sentence together any longer. Cartman watches in awe as he tilts his head even further back against the wall, sounds spilling freely from him now.

He needs to hear more. Needs to hear Kenny struggle against every syllable, moan around every stuttered word.

“So...you like it that much, huh?” Fuck, if he could just reach out, just grab Kenny by the hair and-

“Fuck yeah, fuck it’s so good, Cartman, so good, so fucking good,” He pants out each word, only able to repeat himself like he’s slowly going brain-dead or something. Cartman’s stomach twists - if he were to close his eyes, it would be so easy to imagine that Kenny is panting for him, moaning around his name for _him_ . But then he’d miss the way Kenny tugs desperately at his dick, the way his other hand scrunches up the duvet tightly between his fingers, the way his face contorts in a way Eric could never have expected to be so _...beautiful_ , “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chants, words huffing from him like they’re happening entirely out of his control. Cartman’s hand speeds up on his own dick, and he grunts long and low from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Cartman, shit - you got - you got any-” Kenny reaches a hand out towards him, fingers flexing in a desperate grabbing motion. The reality of what’s about to happen punches Cartman in the gut, like he’d forgotten til this very moment what this was all leading to somehow, and he quickly snatches a few tissues from the box on his night stand, slapping them clumsily into Kenny’s hand. The contact feels forbidden, the slight brush of Kenny’s fingers against his somehow makes it feel like that they’re in this _together_ , connecting them in a sickly way that over-steps another invisible boundary. 

“Hohh - _fuck_ . _Shit_ .” The crown of Kenny’s head stays firmly pressed against the wall, but his back arches, “Ohh - fuck, fuck yeah, fuck - _fuck_.” He near-enough whimpers. And then he’s coming, head ripping from the wall, body snapping forwards to curl in on itself, dick emptying into the handful of tissues. Kenny shudders. His mouth sounds dry, throat hoarse, as he shamelessly moans his way through his orgasm.

Cartman doesn’t have a single second to prepare as his own orgasm rips through him. He barely has time to hold a wad of tissues at the head of his dick because the sight of Kenny losing control right in front of him - the very thing he’s been avoiding fantasies about all week - makes something snap in his brain and instantly proves all too much for him to handle. 

“ _Oh - Jesus_.” Is all he manages to gurgle out as his mind goes white and the image of Kenny writhing in pleasure is seared into his memory forever.

As he breathes laboured breaths and manages to peel his eyes open, he sees Kenny staring openly at him. His dick is back in his pants and he’s smirking...but there’s something else behind his eyes, a small something that betrays his confident demeanour.

“Shit, you did it, dude!”

“Huh?”

“You came!” He throws two fists in the air in a celebration that feels wholly inappropriate, and Cartman suddenly feels really fucking stupid with one hand still wrapped around his diminishing boner, breathing still embarrassingly laboured.

“Yeah.” He says, as the realisation of a thousand awful things settle heavy on his shoulders. He makes quick work of cleaning himself up and tucking his dick back in his pants.

Kenny falls on his side, head just short of the pillow. He’s too close. Way too close. “Guess that dominatrix porno really did awaken something in you, huh?”

Cartman throws his tissues in the general direction of the bin and looks down at Kenny’s face. His eyes are already closed and there’s a contented smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I guess so.” Cartman replies softly.

A minute or so of silence hushes between them and Cartman is almost certain Kenny has passed out, but then a grin stretches over his face and he snorts.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s just.. _.Eric Cartman_ wants to get pegged.” He giggles.

“Screw you, Kenny.”

Kenny stays smiling until he passes out for real, face falling slack and breathing evening out.

Cartman looks down at him, studies his face as he sleeps. He stays staring at him for way longer than he should, until he eventually, when he’s certain Kenny isn’t conscious any more, reaches an uncertain hand out to brush a few loose strands of hair from Kenny’s face. His fingers linger, ever-so-gently, carefully, combing through the hay-bale mane spread out on his bed sheets.

Cartman eventually stills, only his thumb moving to swipe tenderly back and forth over Kenny’s scalp, and he swallows against the sinking realisation of just how absolutely _fucked_ he is. He’s got no other choice than to finally acknowledge the feelings that have been brewing inside him for so long.

He’s fuckin’ gay for his white-trash, poor as fuck, man-slut of a best friend.

  
 _Weak_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! Pay-off!!!!  
> Man, this one took it out of me.


	13. Turmoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so incredibly sorry for the wait - this goddamn chapter has been the bane of my life for the past month.  
> Biggest shout out ever to [ Zuotian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian) for helping me through the struggle. He's also made some [hot af](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713905/chapters/60508282) [ art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713905/chapters/60516250#workskin) for this fic - please go check him out! He writes the most beautifully worded fics you'll ever read.  
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this well overdue Chapter.

Cartman sits, reeling from the unbelievable events that just transpired. He replays them over and over in his head as he stares, bewildered and pink-cheeked, into the heavy darkness of his room. For what could be hours - it certainly feels like it - he cycles between getting lost in his thoughts whilst he picks anxiously at his thumbs, calming himself down from an overwhelming tightness in his chest, and gingerly sliding his fingers through Kenny’s hair, glancing down at his slackened face and studying each and every detail he can make out in the low light.

That was...by far the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Hands down. Hotter than any porn he’s ever watched and any fantasy he’s ever had. It feels like his world has been flipped upside down and inside out and he wonders to himself just how the fuck he’s ever going to be able jack it to regular porn ever again after witnessing first-hand Kenny’s come-face, and all the heart-stopping noises that came with it. 

Though the realisation hits him like a slap round the face, it feels as though perhaps he should have seen this coming. Should have been prepared for this tidal wave of emotions, should have noticed all the warning signs, the pointers, but they all somehow slipped him by - or more appropriately, he forced them to slip by, convinced himself that he hadn’t noticed them in the first place...and now he’s here, sitting absolutely stunned in his own bed, dwelling endlessly on the realisation that he might want to bone the guy laying just beside him. 

It really does feel like these feelings have sprung from nowhere, jumped him without consent. He supposes _something_ has always simmered somewhere under the surface, bubbled just underneath his guarded exterior. He’s guesses he’s always felt somewhat different, a quiet admiration of sorts, for Kenny, but, fuck - it’s like the floodgates have opened now. There’s no going back from this. 

He acknowledges, deep down, that this may be his own doing.. That perhaps he’s caused this geyser of emotions by suppressing them for so long - there’s been a trickle here and there of ‘weird feelings’ but this feels like freaking explosion. Like his stomach is gonna fall out his ass. Like he’s feeling a whole spectrum of emotions at the same time and it’s just too much to cope with.

He’s confused, he’s horny, he’s scared, and he’s pissed as hell at himself. He doesn't know who he is or what he’s doing but he does know for sure what he _wants,_ what he _needs_ \- and that is to see Kenny, mouth open, moaning desperately, and writhing in pleasure just one more time...and if that makes him gay, then...well, shit.

So - what the hell is he meant to do now? Is this where he starts talking with a lisp and walking with a limp wrist bouncing at his waist? Jesus, he hopes not. He hasn’t got the first idea of what being anything other than being straight entails, and he’s certainly not sure how to go about finding out what the next step to this possibility is..

He sighs a huge breath from the very bottom of his lungs and then wiggles downwards until his head hits his pillow, facing Kenny. He stays like this for just a moment - watching Kenny’s eyes dart under his eyelids, the way his lips gape just slightly, and feeling his warm breath hit his neck in slow repetition

He doesn’t care that it still smells vaguely of puke, or that his boney limbs sprawl obnoxiously across the bed, pushing Cartman over the edge of the mattress. The fact that he’s here, laying inches away from Cartman's face is enough to overbear any of Cartman’s discomforts, any other thoughts or distractions. Cartman is simply overwhelmed, too wrapped up in Kenny’s presence and his newfound emotions to notice anything else. 

His eyes skirt down Kenny’s face, stopping at his open, drooling mouth. The mouth that birthed so many dick-jerking sounds. The mouth he’d seen suck over Heidi’s clit, the one that’s spoken so many dirty anecdotes over the years - chipped teeth, chapped lips - _shit_ does he want to _kiss_ Kenny? That feels like a whole other ball park. A realisation that tips his brain over the edge and snaps him out of this lame daydreaming.

He shuffles until his back is facing Kenny’s dumb fuckin’ face and sighs another full-body breath. He’ll think this shit over tomorrow. Right now he desperately needs to sleep, needs to put his thoughts on hold before they eat his brain from the inside out.

***

Cartman wakes to the sound of Kenny complaining loudly beside him; a series of pained grumbles muffled by his pillow. First, the cloud of unconsciousness slowly dissipates from his brain - Kenny’s groans wheedling into his dreams and stealing him from them - and then he gradually becomes aware of the rest of his body, realising with a start that their legs must have become entangled at some point during the night - his thick calf nestled in between two bony breadsticks. He snatches himself away, feeling the rough brush of leghair along his skin and very suddenly - he’s wide awake.

He pushes himself upright and scrubs at his eyes, the jostling of the bed pulling another long, disgruntled groan from Kenny. 

“Awesome job waking me up, dumbass.”

“Uuuuugh.”

Kenny rolls onto his side, face popping out from the depths of his pillow, eyes scrunched shut. His brow is furrowed, face pale. He tucks himself into a fetal position, swallows thickly, and gives another sickened groan. Cartman finds himself unwillingly worried and -- something else entirely inappropriate.

“You’re such an idiot, Kenny.” He cringes at how the hushed tone of his voice betrays his concern.

Kenny nods fiercely, wholeheartedly agreeing with Cartman, “I’m so fucked.” He croaks, and then grimaces, looking as though speaking alone has increased his nausea tenfold. 

Cartman looks down at him for a couple of moments, frowning at the way Kenny breathes carefully through the nausea, and how his forehead sparkles with sweat. The words come before he has a chance to consider them, “What do you need?” They take him by surprise - when the fuck did he start caring?

“Water. Cold.” comes the answer, forced weakly through tight teeth.

Cartman is thankful that Kenny still has his eyes tightly shut, giving him opportunity to gaze down at him for just a couple more seconds. He watches as Kenny swallows thickly, and distantly reflects on how fucked up he is for finding the sight of his best friend dishevelled and suffering so hot.

He forces himself to stop staring and slides wordlessly from the bed. He grabs an empty cup from the bedside table and plods his way out of the room. When his feet touch the cool tiles of the kitchen, he runs the tap for a few seconds, passing a couple of fingers under it to make sure it's suitably icy. Hah, of course. Because he cares or whatever about that shit now. He places the glass under the stream and stares flatly as the water slowly creeps up its side, memories from the night before passing through his mind. 

Had he really come from watching Kenny? Is this really who he is now? Someone who gets off to...guys? Someone who busts a nut to his best friend drunkenly beating his meat? To the way his mouth gapes and his voice shakes and his big wet dick and - _shit_ , his glass is overflowing.

He makes his way back to his room, cheeks a little pink. Kenny is still curled up, looking as sickly as ever.

“Here.” Cartman sits beside Kenny’s knees and holds the glass at arms-length. Kenny groans, unmoving.

“You asked for this, asshole. Come on, take it already.”

“Uugh.” Kenny props himself on one elbow, eyes still closed, and then shakes his head, falling back down again with a nauseated breath blown between pursed lips. Cartman sighs, arm faltering slightly. He can’t deal with this shit.

“Dude, you need this. Stop being a pussy.”

“Can’t.” Kenny swallows, “Feel sick.”

Cartman rolls his eyes. Fine, then. Before he can give it a second thought, he abruptly shoves a hand between Kenny’s head and the mattress, supporting its weight as he angles it upright. Kenny’s eyes finally blink open, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Drink.” Eric orders, trying his best to sound stern, but feeling his cheeks prickle with what he’s sure is a visible heat. This is too close, too intimate. Kenny gives a brief double take between Cartman’s face and the glass before opening his mouth wide. _Oh_.

“Pushin’ your luck, McCormick.” He grunts as he guides the glass towards Kenny’s open mouth, stopping when he feels it bump against his lips. 

Cartman is wildly aware of his dick getting hard in his pants, the ache to just lean towards Kenny and do something altogether insane. Instead, he stays frozen besides the slight tilt of his wrist, tipping the glass ever-so-gently. 

Kenny’s eyes flutter closed as he starts gulping. He gives a crude nasal moan that echoes into the glass and Eric can't shake the innuendo of holding Kenny like this and pouring something down his throat. Kenny must be able to feel how hot his hand is against his cheek, must be able to hear his heart hammering from where he is. 

“Oh God, that’s so good.” Kenny sighs, pulling away from the glass, but Cartman sees that only half the water has disappeared.

“You’ve gotta drink the rest, dude, you can’t just stop there. C’mon.” Maybe he’s genuinely concerned for Kenny’s well-being, or maybe he’s just selfishly giving into the sexual gratification that this is providing him - but he urges the cup forwards either way.

“I was gonna! Jeez, yessir!” Kenny rolls his eyes, seeming to have already perked up a little - definitely able to hold his own weight but choosing to stay nestled in Cartman’s palm for reasons beyond Cartman’s ability to think right now. He leans in, placing a hand over Cartman’s to guide the glass more gracefully to his mouth, and noisily swallows the rest. Cartman clamps his teeth tightly together. When the glass is empty, Kenny hums happily, closes his eyes, and flops back down to Cartman’s pillow.

“Thanks, dude.” If Cartman gripped the glass any tighter it would surely shatter into a thousand pieces. It feels as though his thoughts have already succumbed to the same fate.

“Uh huh.” He leans forwards to return the empty glass to his bedside table. As he leans back, Kenny snorts.

“Cartman! Dude!” He laughs, raising his eyebrows pointedly at Cartman's crotch. Shit.

“Morningwood.” He sputters, yanking his shirt over his dick.

“Sure.” Kenny rolls his eyes, and Eric’s heart stops. Wait, no no no, he fuckin _knows_? 

“ _What?_ ”

Kenny looks up and smirks “What? Like you’re not thinking about getting pegged by Bebe again. I bet you're already daydreaming about her strap.” He closes his eyes, grinning smugly to himself like he’s got Cartman all figured out, “That really fucked you up, huh?”

_Oh, thank the Lord and all things holy he doesn’t know_ , “Screw you.” Cartman grumbles, casting his gaze down to his feet, “I didn’t ask you to turn up drunk as hell and tell me your stupid fuckin’ stories.”

“Dude, Cartman, I’m just kidding around.”

“Well you can quit it.” 

The room hushes. Kenny frowns. “Hey, shit, I’m sorry dude, I didn’t mean to-”

“Just - drop it Kenny.”

“No for real, I don’t wanna make you upset. I shouldn’t have just rolled up like I did, I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“I said _drop it_.”

Kenny stays silent as Cartman walks over to his desk, bouncing down on his chair and studying his phone. Kenny breaks the quiet with another uncomfortable groan, “Dude, maybe I shouldn’t have drunk all that water. I feel like I’m gonna puke again.” He fake-retches. Cartman ignores him. He can feel the heavy tension of Kenny expecting a reaction from across the room.

“Cartman, is this about, like, jacking off in front of me or something?” Cartman gulps.

“Dude, you don’t have to worry, I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone.”

“ _Kenny_.” Cartman warns.

“For real! And, like, it’s not gay or anything, if that’s what you’re getting all pissy about. We jacked it over a girl, over Bebe. And I totally get it - she’s hot as hell.”

Cartman drops his head to his hands.

“Hey, if it makes you feel better, I’ve done that with a tonne of straight guys before, so you don’t have to beat yourself up about it, okay? I mean, most guys do it when they’re like fifteen, when they've first discovered porn n’ shit, but like, you’re just catching up or something.”

“Okay.” Cartman mutters, avoiding eye contact.

“I mean it, Cartman. No homo times a billion. Don’t stress. You’re _clean_ or whatever.”

“Cool.” Cartman shakes his head and sits up straight. Kenny is propped up on an elbow looking intently at him. He looks pale. “You said you still feel like you’re gonna hurl?”

Kenny slumps back down, “Yeah, dude, I really fucked myself up last night...I guess that’s karma for ya. Being an asshole to you and all.” 

“Ugh, Christ, stop being such a bitch. You weren’t an asshole, Kenny. Pull yourself together already. Jesus.” He shakes his head, and rises from the bed, making sure to keep his boner angled well out of sight. He makes his way to his chest of drawers and rummages through them, eventually pulling out a selection of clothes that he bundles under his arm. He makes his way across the room and opens his door.

“Where ya going?”

“Away.” Cartman grunts, and shuts the door firmly behind him. 

In the bathroom, he turns on the shower, sheds his clothes, and steps under the hot stream. He closes his eyes and lets the water roll over his skin, steam quickly filling his breathing space. He rolls his head back and stays there for a couple of brain-numbing seconds, cleansing his mind of thoughts - a brief meditation that leaves his head empty besides the vague acknowledgement of physical sensations. 

He pulls his head back upright, and then topples it forwards to glare at the erection jutting out at a mocking right-angle from under his stomach. As if Kenny had tried to convince him that jacking off together wasn’t gay. As if he didn’t know that Cartman was ten steps ahead of that, already daydreaming about his dick and questioning his very sense of self because of him. What a fucking kick in the balls.

Every move Kenny is making this morning, every sound that comes out of that goddamn mouth, has been making Cartman’s dick twitch and he’s tired of it. He’s had enough of feeling haunted by the events of last night, controlled by them - a slave to his body once again. It’s unbearable.

He throws a hand around his dick, which hasn’t flagged an inch since Kenny drank water from Cartman’s hand like some kind of sexy baby bird. It's a quick duty wank, he tells himself - something to relieve himself of this sexual burden and help him think just one normal thought without it leading to him being an uncontrolled pervert around Kenny for once. He’s gonna cleanse himself of this horny bullshit.

He keeps his thoughts vague, his mind as blank as possible, as he jerks himself off quickly, eager to come and rid himself of these awful feelings already. He’s wholly goal orientated: jack off, come, and get back to being his normal self - the version that isn’t all-consumed by memories of the night prior. 

He focuses solely on the feeling of his hand passing up and down his dick, narrows his mind to the purely physical. Sure, images of Kenny with his back arching and brow furrowed pass through his brain, but he doesn't pay any mind to them - simply letting them pass on through. And sure, every time he recalls the sound of Kenny moaning drunkenly, unabashedly, it sends a heavy jolt of arousal through his stomach, but it’s not like he’s actually jacking off to Kenny. He’s not actively thinking about him.

He doesn’t dwell on the fact that each brief snippet draws him closer to busting a nut - that’s a problem for post-jacking-it Cartman. He huffs out a quiet moan, and while the worry of Kenny being able to overhear anything from just a couple doors down crosses his mind, it’s ultimately short-lived as the very idea sends him hurtling towards orgasm.

He slaps a firm hand to the dampened bathroom tiles and hangs his head low, hunching over his rapidly-moving fist for barely a couple more seconds, and then he's coming, relief rushing over his body much like the hot water on his skin. He breathes heavily through the endorphins, watching the evidence of his turmoil spin down the drain, and continues to stare long after it's gone.

When Cartman eventually snaps out of his daze, he begins to scrub his body, slipping into the autopilot of washing himself. As soap foams on his skin, he’s happy to realise that his thoughts have started to clear - the urge to see Kenny as he was last night have diminished to a mere hum somewhere at the back of his mind.

However, once he finishes up washing and steps out from the shower, he realises a different, perhaps even more awful thing. Though the sex-obsessed brain fog has cleared, he’s left with an uncomfortable pit in his stomach, a buzzing through his limbs. It takes as much time for him to wrap a towel around his body for him to realise that...he’s nervous. Nervous to go back into his room and face Kenny of all things. It seems that under all that pent up sexual tension was something far, far worse.

He raises his hands to find them shaking slightly. What if Kenny finds out how he feels? What if he slips up and says something? Is Kenny okay? Should Cartman help nurse him back to health somehow? Will Kenny like him more if he does that?

Unbelievable. He’s like some fifteen-year-old chick with a lame-ass obsessive crush. 

As soon as he becomes self aware, he scrubs at his body with the towel, sprays some deodorant, and pulls his clean set of clothing on. It sticks and shudders along his damp skin, but it’s not like he’s got another option. He’s not Kenny - he’s not about to find the confidence or stupidity to suddenly strip in front of his best friend. 

Before he leaves the bathroom, Cartman takes a deep breath or two to steady himself - stopping just short of slapping himself in the face a couple of times and giving himself a private pep talk.

He slips back into his room and tosses his dirty clothes into his hamper, neglecting to even look in Kenny’s direction. He snatches his vomit-covered sweater from the floor and bundles it in there too.

“What’s got you all dressed up?” Comes a strained voice from the bed. Cartman hazards a quick glance in its direction. Kenny is still rolled up tightly in bed, looking pained - Cartman feels that same pull of sympathy, the same awful realisation that he cares. 

“Goin’ out.” 

“Where?” 

“Mind your own damn business, McCormick.” He slumps onto his chair and ties his shoelaces. God, her needs to get out of here.

“Fine. You go on your secret adventure. I’ll just be here, dying.”

“I know.” He grabs his wallet, phone and keys, shoves them into his pockets and heads towards the door.

“Don’t fuck my room up while I’m gone.”

“Can’t promise anything.” He hears as the door falls shut, a weak grin evident in Kenny’s voice.

He’s relieved to escape the hot claustrophobia of a hungover Kenny holing up in his room. He needs a break, needs the fresh air to bring a clarity that nutting apparently couldn't. He feels like his very personality has been shaken, and yet he’s having to spend his whole day cooped up with the source of his turmoil. 

He’s so fucked, he’s so fucking fucked it’s unreal. The hell is he gonna do? With every step he takes, the newfound clarity spirals into something of an identity crisis. His breaths get quicker and he begins to panic. There’s no way this is possible, no way this is who he is now. It just can’t be.

The Cartman from last night, the one who spent hours running his fingers through Kenny’s hair, feels like an entirely different person - someone who was confused but ultimately able to recognise and accept his newfound emotions. 

The Cartman now? Well who the fuck knows who he is. All he can accept right now is that he needs to get his shit together asap or he’s gonna lose his damn mind.

Cartman arrives at the convenience store and picks up a few supplies. He feels numb, like he’s floating under the fluorescent lights on autopilot. He truly cannot believe that this has happened to him. Maybe this is all just a mix up inside of his head, a misunderstanding. Is he really gay now - is it that simple? He picks up a pack of multivitamins from a shelf and rolls it about in his hand, trying to read the label. The words don’t go in. Maybe he needs to run a few experiments, test this gay hypothesis.

He pays for his shit and walks home, his stomach fluttering a little with every step - each one taking him closer to having to face Kenny again. When he arrives back, he puts some coffee on, using the time it takes to trickle into the pot to gather his thoughts. 

His stomach is in knots - screw absence making the heart grow fonder, what about ‘a quick trip to the convenience store makes your heart sink out your ass and makes you never want to face your sexy dumbass friend ever again’?.

He finds himself in the completely alien position of questioning whether he can actually go through with this, whether he has the guts to be trapped in that room with Kenny again. He’s not used to second guessing himself or purposefully putting himself in a position that he’s less than confident in, and so isn’t sure whether he wants to put himself through this ordeal in the first place. Maybe he should turn around and sit this out at a cafe or a park somewhere? Maybe he could hide out at Butters’ house.The kid would let him.

Ugh, _fuck_ , he can’t do that. Kenny would get worried. And then he’ll suspect shit. And then he’ll lay on the guilt until Cartman confesses one thing or another just to make it stop. He may be a mess on the inside, but he can’t afford to make a scene. Not now. He plans on taking this god awful crush to the grave. 

Milk and two sugars later, Cartman takes another deep breath and readies himself to face Kenny once again. He inwardly tells himself to stop being a little bitch and then opens the door to his room. 

“You’ve been gone forever, what the hell Cartman.”

“I got some stuff.” He dumps the shopping bag on the bed next to Kenny and sets his mug of coffee next to his head on the bedside table.

“You got stuff? Shit, stuff is my fuckin’ favourite.” Kenny grins weakly. A small amount of colour has returned to his cheeks but he still looks sickly as hell. Cartman takes a seat at the opposite side of the room and watches with his own coffee in hand as Kenny rummages through the bag.

“No way, Cartman! No way! You got this for me?” Cartman nods, “Oh god, you’re a saint. A fuckin’ saint, dude.” There's a note of sincere emotion in his voice. He pulls a Gatorade from the bag, cradling it like the most precious thing in the whole world and then rolls the cool bottle over his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs at the contact. Cartman averts his own.

“I got some noodles too,” he murmurs, “and like, some crappy multivitamins or whatever. I dunno if they’re the right ones but -”

“Cartman. This is amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you so, so much, dude!” Kenny gives a wide grin, and something twinges in Cartman’s chest. 

“You want me to make the noodles?”

“Fuck, would you?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Soon enough, Kenny is sitting upright in bed, slurping away happily at a pot of instant goodness.

“You look a bit less dead.” Cartman comments, warily nonchalant 

“All thanks to you, dude. Those vits worked a charm.” He grins mid-mouthful, a noodle slipping from between his gap-teeth and back into his bowl, “Oops.”

Cartman snorts, and then sets his mouth back into a firm line. He can’t afford to let any emotions escape, give Kenny a single reason to suspect anything. The situation feels delicate, and Eric can feel the pressure of it making his forehead sticky with sweat.

When he realises that the other side of the room has fallen unusually silent, he raises his gaze - it meets with Kenny’s for a split second, who in turn snaps his eyes downwards to frown at his bowl of noodles.

“You good, dude?” Cartman asks. Shit, he hopes that doesn’t come across as though he cares like...too much.

“Yeah...uh...Cartman?”

“What do you want Kenny?”

“Look, I... I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened, dude. I was a mess last night and I shouldn’t have--” He sighs, and prods at his noodles aimlessly, before sheepishly looking up, “Cartman I...didn’t say anything dumb last night, did I?”

“Well...sure. You said plenty of dumb things, so many, in fact, that none of them really stick out.” He frowns at Kenny, confused.

“You sure? Nothing particularly bad?”

“What’s up your ass, Kenny? I just said - nothing so bad it sticks out. You mostly just threw up all over yourself.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Why? Scared you told me some deep, dark secret?”

Kenny snorts, “Mind your own business, _Eric_.”

“Ugh, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Use my first name. It’s...gross.”

“Well you keep calling me McCormick. Just making us even - _Eric_.” He bats his eyelashes and Cartman’s cheeks instantly prickle with heat. He disguises his fluster with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. “Screw you, McCormick.”

The rest of the day passes much the same. Kenny feels increasingly healthier, whilst Cartman is stuck feeling increasingly tighter wound, close to combusting from second-guessing his very core identity.

Eventually, Kenny scoots from the messy nest that is Cartman’s bed, “I should really get going, dude. I’ve got nothing with me for college tomorrow and my mouth tastes like shit.”

“You can borrow my toothbrush,” what the _fuck_ , “I mean...if you want...I’d have to incinerate it after but if that’s what you gotta do then- ” 

Kenny cock his head ever-so-slightly, “What’s got into you, Cartman?”

“Just trying to be nice but fuck you, I guess.”

Kenny blinks slowly a couple of times, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “Well, thank you. That’s a very kind offer. I doubt anyone will complain about my breath from here to my dorm, though, so I’ll miss you on this one. Maybe next time, dude.”

“Pfft, whatever.” Cartman kicks at his carpet.

Kenny smiles warmly, “See ya tomorrow, Cartman. Thanks for everything and uh…” He fidgets with the hem of Cartman’s shirt that still hangs loosely off his bony frame, “Look after yourself, okay? Always here if you need me.”

Cartman rolls his eyes, “I know, I know.”

Kenny nods once, and then steps out the front door. Cartman feels his shoulders physically sag with relief.

He listens to Kenny’s footsteps fade away down the hallway, the memory of him barrelling through it last night seeming like a lifetime ago. He waits for a good five minutes, making sure that there’s a zero chance of Kenny coming back, before slumping back down at his desk and folding open his laptop screen - time to test his hypothesis.

He opens up an incognito tab, pauses to flex his knuckles, and then types in something that goes against every fibre of his being:

_'Gay porn'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with the wording of this chapter - it feels kinda clumsy. But you know what, it's out. Finally. And that feels good.


End file.
